Errant Exile
by Kieri
Summary: [In Progress] NEW Ch. 26, Strong Medicine, Pt. 1. After Goku leaves to train Uub, Piccolo finds himself with little to do until an acquaintance from his childhood returns, a friendship is kindled, and boredom becomes a thing of the past.
1. Exile's Entrance

AN: This is the first chapter in my "Errant Exile" series. It takes place roughly a year after the events of Dragonball Z and the 28th Budoukai and assumes GT doesn't exist (I wish it really didn't...).

While it can be read as a stand-alone, you may feel "in the dark" unless you've read my previous story, "One Good Deed," first. Its the pre-story for this one and gives you background you'll definately need to keep reading this one. I hope you enjoy it.

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Dragonball Z: Errant Exile  
  
_Chapter One - "Exile's Entrance"_  
  
_"Someone is going to pay for this...in body parts." - Khri_  
  
"Battle Commander, you are cleared for landing in fifteen marks."  
  
Strapped into the pilot's seat at the combat shuttle's console, Khri switched off her comm transmitter. _Battle Commander in name only now_, she thought for the thousandth time. From her position just inside the moon's orbit, Earth appeared to be a tranquil world, covered in rich hues of blue, green, brown and white. Flashes of light laced through the clouds on the night side of the planet – her destination – indicating a few large thunderstorms. Khri would normally have been content to orbit a few times to enjoy the view and the solitude of the shuttle, _but lets face it...I want to put off the start of this assignment just a little while longer_. Once she landed, unwelcome reality would intrude and make her life miserable.  
  
Surveillance had determined that Son Goku, his wife ChiChi and their youngest son Goten lived in a rural area of small, forested mountains and valleys. Gohan lived in a place called Satan City with his wife, Videl, and young daughter. Khri had decided that, in line with her assignment, her best option would be to find a residence centrally located between the two families. She'd gone through the trouble of memorizing all of her currency codes after they'd been converted to a format she could use on Earth. All that was left of her former life didn't fill the knapsack on the floor beside her. Other than for a few sentimental images of family and friends, she couldn't think of anything she wanted to take. Sai was sending all her medals, ribbons and awards back Home, hopefully to be shoved vindictively under the nose of Eldest. If he took it as an insult or rebuke for his treatment of her, all the better.  
  
Khri's shock at the sudden dismissal from her command had eased into a numbness she couldn't shake. She hadn't officially been demoted and still held the title of Battle Commander, which from a political and social standpoint was almost worse. It gave the gossiping snipers at Home plenty of ammo to fire her way, and she could say or do nothing in her own defense.  
  
An alarm on the console flared to life, shaking Khri from her self-indulgent feelings of pity. The scanners confirmed something she had worried would happen ever since discovering the huge security lapses left by the Tigradi. "Shuttle Eight to _Aughenai_, there's a Telkarran ship on approach for Earth. Scans show it's a small recon vessel; it can't hold more than five or six Telkarri."  
  
"Commander, has it spotted you yet?"  
  
"Negative. Their shields are still down. I think our new variable shields are buying me some time and I'm not going to waste it. I'm moving to intercept and destroy it before it lands. Find out where it came from and get a ship to plug that blockade breach!"  
  
"Check, Commander, we'll keep monitoring from here."  
  
Khri switched the controls over from cruise to battle mode. Servos whirred as the shuttle's armored plating shifted to increase its maneuverability. New displays flickered to life, showing her the distinct outline and specifications of the Telkarri ship. "Humph. They're fluttering their flight path to avoid weapons lock, so obviously they realize I'm here." She was well behind the recon vessel, which was headed for the dark side of the planet and into the upper atmosphere. _I hope everyone down there is asleep..._ she thought as her hand rested on the main launcher controls.  
  
Clouds rushed up along either side of the shuttle as it descended. The stars disappeared and the view out the port was completely black. Khri winced when a bolt of lightning lit up the cockpit, then blinked to clear her burning, blurred vision. The ship wasn't in any danger from the storm but the atmospheric instability wreaked havoc on sensor accuracy. _If I get a good, clean hit I'm going to be lucky_, Khri mused as she locked and fired on the enemy ship. A streak of red fire sped away from the shuttle's wing, followed by a ball of white light in the distance ahead.   
  
It wasn't a miss, but it wasn't a good hit either. Scans showed the missile had slammed into the side of the Telkarri vessel, shearing off one of the four engines. It pitched wildly from the left then to the right, leaving a trail of burning bits of debris. "Nice shot, Commander!" the officer from the _Aughenai_ shouted.   
  
"Not good enough. Its still in a piece big enough to make a controlled landing without crashing. _Aughenai_, can you give me a better estimate as to where that thing is going down? My sensors are whacked because of local weather conditions."  
  
"Commander, it looks like they'll come down in the desert, far east of your projected landing point."  
  
"Any cities or towns in the area?"  
  
"None that Surveillance has on the maps."  
  
_Good. Then I'm free to make an unholy mess if I need to. And I want to._ "Check, _Aughenai_. I'll keep you posted."  
  
Khri pushed the shuttle to a higher speed, closing in on the Telkarri recon ship. She still couldn't see out the viewport, but she knew that the break with the clouds was coming soon. The turbulence rocked her in her seat, shaking her choke-hold on her anger loose. _How dare they do this to me!_ Khri's mind raged as the dull rumble of nearby thunder rolled off the ship. _Decades of service and sacrifice, thrown away!_ Her finger hit the firing button again but the missile went wide, detonating far from the enemy craft. _Well, damn them all! And damn Eldest and his wretched scheming with my life!   
_  
The shuttle suddenly broke through the cloud deck into a drenching rain. Water sluiced off the main port, distorting the red glow of the Telkarri ship's remaining engines. Scans showed the desert wasn't one vast expanse of waterless beach; huge rock outcroppings and chiseled valleys broke the monotony of miles of pale yellow sand. The Telkarri ship's barely controlled landing plowed a trench through a flat area, blasting sand into the rain. Khri guided her shuttle into a hover, letting it slowly drift down to the ground and land with a dull thump.  
  
Khri smiled to herself. It would be easy, if a little dangerous for the shuttle, to launch a missile and be done with the recon vessel. But where was the fun and glory in such an easy victory?   
  
Throwing off the safety harness, Khri rushed over to the supply lockers. She yanked out a suit of matte black full body armor – lightweight, durable, and acid-resistant – complete with matching boots and gauntlets. It took only a moment to slip into the form fitting suit and snap the protective plates into their proper places. _I want these bastards to know who they're fighting. I want them to be afraid and I want them to know they're going to die._ Common sense made it through her anger, reminding her what Telkarri acids would do to her face. Khri fished out one of the sleek helmets and put it on, but left off the eye shields. Her _diacha_ clenched in her fist, she jerked her long braid free of the armor, grabbed her knapsack and opened the hatch.  
  
Sheets of rain poured down out of the black sky, churning the desert into a field of thick, yellow-brown muck. Khri hunched down on the gangplank, feeling an icy trickle wander down the back of her neck, and watched the downed ship. The crash had taken off most of the already damaged wing and a series of small fires sparked down its length. A convenient flash of lightning showed her that a lot of the exterior weaponry was damaged and probably wouldn't fire. She tensed, watching as the hatch on the Telkarri ship began to iris open. Khri didn't waste any time; she straightened and marched away from the shuttle, flung her knapsack as far as she could, and walked steadily towards the enemy. The quick press of a button on her gauntlet put the shuttle on remote; the gangplank closed, the hatch shut, and the engines fired. She didn't turn around when a blast of air hit her from behind as the shuttle launched into the dark, wet sky. There wasn't time for regret as her last link to the _Aughenai_ and the life she knew vanished into the storm.   
  
Mandibles chattering and serrated, spiny legs digging into the mud, Telkarri began to stream out of the wreckage of their ship. _One, two, three, four, five, six Greens...and one Blue! How wonderful!_ It was rare to encounter so few Telkarri in hand-to-hand combat; they rarely won battles in small skirmish situations. Their strength was in numbers, swarming and overwhelming their enemy, uncaring how many died in such a fight. Arms slightly outstretched, Khri lowered her head as one of them roared at her, probably the Blue. Her _diacha_ flared to life, the two white blades hissing and evaporating any raindrops that struck them. She grinned broadly beneath her helmet, fangs bared in challenge.   
  
The Telkarri moved quickly and formed a half-circle facing Khri. Rainwater sheeted of their slick, dappled exoskeletons as the Blue shrieked a challenge. At least two of the Greens were oozing acid from injuries they must have taken in the crash; she'd have to be careful even with the armor on. Khri began to move in a slow pattern, feeling neglected combat reflexes come to life, aching to be used. The _diacha_ was the only source of light and it danced inside the circle, outdone only by the occasional bolt of lightning. Thunder shook the ground beneath her feet. _You want to dance with me? Come, then!   
_  
One wounded Green decided to be her first "partner." It screamed as it surged forward, lunging at her with a serrated foreleg. Khri ducked and swung around with her blades and the leg went flying. It screeched again as it died, a blade sank to the hilt in its thorax. The blade winked out, Khri jumped backward, and the blade reappeared. The Green's noise faded as it crumpled to the ground and sagged into the wet sand.  
  
Khri didn't even feel winded. Instead she felt exhilarated, like a part of her she had thought tamed long ago was suddenly set free. Rainwater mixed with acid from the fallen Green, sending a plume of foul smelling steam into the air. Khri side-stepped the mess, _diacha_ again at the ready, and waited for the next opponent.  
  
_The hive mind is so predictably stupid_, Khri thought as she easily took down the next two Telkarri. The fourth Green had a spark of originality – perhaps from desperation after seeing its three hivemates sliced into oozing chunks – and made a dive, intending to cut her legs out from under her. She was able to backflip out of the way just in time, and the distance gave her a moment to pull enough power into her fist for a sphere of blackfire. It wasn't strong enough to penetrate the Green's shielding, but the blast stunned it long enough for Khri to step in and slice off its head.   
  
Khri regarded the last two Greens and the Blue from beyond the growing pile of corpses. The Blue was rubbing its forelegs together, resulting in the click-speak they used when communicating with each other. _This looks promising_, Khri grinned, returning to a battle stance. She held her _diacha_ out at arms length in front of her and mentally activated a tiny control inside it. The two metal ends telescoped outward, lengthening the hilt, and the white blades widened and expanded. The polearm configuration wasn't her preferred choice, but it worked best when facing more than one Telkarri at a time. She gave it a quick spin just for the fun of it, watching the three standing monstrosities carefully. It never hurt to try and anticipate the unexpected, and cornered Telkarri weren't predictable. The two Greens squealed and their forelegs trembled, but the Blue kept them in line with a warning hiss.  
  
Both Greens attacked at once.  
  
Khri pole vaulted straight up and came down in a crouch directly in front of the advancing Greens. One blade vanished but the other lengthened into a glowing broadsword. She brought it across and swept it through one thorax, then the other. Lightning flashed through the sky as Khri rolled away to escape the spraying acid. She came up covered in mud but uninjured, and the bodies on the corpse pile increased by two.  
  
Thoroughly soaked and feeling the grit of sand in her mouth, Khri stared at the Blue over the bodies of dead Greens. _I need to stop playing and be done with this_, she admonished herself, but found she didn't care. Her life had gone to hell in a swift and degrading manner in just a few short days. Her command had been taken from her for no conceivable reason, she'd been ripped from everyone and everything she knew, and Eldest refused to give her a basic explanation. Her long simmering anger began to reach a boil and the Blue was just a convenient victim she could butcher without remorse. Khri reached up, stripped off her helmet and cast it aside, letting the lightning illuminate her face for the Telkarri's benefit.   
  
The Blue shrieked in fury and fear, as predicted. It charged towards her, its large forelegs raised and ready to strike. Khri was ready with a blast of blackfire, intending to slow its assault, when a yellow light suddenly slammed into the Telkarri. It impacted on the Blue's side shields and knocked it over, its legs flailing. Lightning? Was it possible lightning struck in that exact moment? Startled just for a second, Khri extended her arm –  
  
"Let me finish this, girl."  
  
– and let the blackfire fly.  
  
A huge blast, bigger than anything Khri could possibly have intended or caused, hit the Blue with a light and energy so intense it sent her flying backward. Her _diacha_ was knocked from her hand as she hit the ground, hard, and threw her arm over her face. Sand, stones and bits of burned Telkarri battered against her armor as the concussion hit. She waited until the hail of debris had changed back to the soft patter of rain before she raised her head and looked around.  
  
Khri's natural night vision allowed her to see most outlines but was nearly useless when it came to perceiving color. What she did see was a man lying face down on the ground directly in front of her, face buried in his arms. His dark hair stood up at crazy angles and his gloves bore the tell-tale pockmarks of acid burns. When he lifted his head she found herself staring into a pair of furious eyes under thick, lowered brows, his lips curled in a sneer. Then her nose caught the barest hint of a smell she recognized from many years ago. It was a slightly bitter odor almost masked by the scent of burned sugar.  
  
"Now here's something I really didn't expect to find," Khri said softly in her most dangerous voice, a broad grin on her face, showing all four fangs. "A Saiyan, alive and on Earth!" 

_To Be Continued..._


	2. The Verge of Memory

Errant Exile

Chapter 2 - _"The Verge of Memory"  
_  
Thunderstorms were rare in the desert, but when they occurred they were usually violent. This particular late night storm was no different. Intense lightning illuminated the small valley Piccolo favored for meditation and exercise, and the subsequent thunder jolted loose a small rockslide. From his dry vantage point in the mouth of a natural cave, he watched as rain churned the dry ground into a field of small rivulets. The noise and light show disturbed his usual routine but he never minded these natural performances. They were almost as spectacular at night as they were during the day. He let out a long, contented sigh and looked upward, listening to the rain.  
  
Piccolo watched as one particular flash of lightning started small, brightened intensely, then faded. His brow furrowed slightly in puzzlement; he'd seen "ball lightning" before and this didn't qualify. The clouds suddenly flared red a moment before a flash similar to the one before lit the sky. Another rolling bolt streaked through the lowest clouds but displayed something completely different when it broke into the rain.  
  
It was a spaceship.  
  
Jumping to his feet, Piccolo tried to use the light from the next lightning strike to identify it. He had an easier time of determining what it wasn't. It didn't resemble anything ever used by Saiyans, Nameks, or Freeza. It was sleek and long with no sharp edges, looking more like an insect or a sea creature than a spacecraft. It was also heavily damaged on one side. It listed a moment before it disappeared beyond a distant mesa, followed by a deep rumble that shook the ground beneath his feet.  
  
A second ship dropped from the clouds. This one was far different from the first – bulkier and bigger – and seemingly in one piece. It slowed to a halt before dropping out of sight behind the mesa.  
  
Piccolo stepped out into the rain, jaw clenched. He reached out with his chi and found Gohan first. It was late into the night but his former student was still awake. A second quick search turned up a sleeping Goku and then Vegeta, who was downing a late night meal. Gohan looked up from his books, Goku twitched awake and Vegeta swallowed his mouthful. 'I think you all need to see what I'm seeing right now', Piccolo told them. 'Earth may be about to be invaded again.'  
  
Gohan took off his glasses. 'Piccolo, what's going on?'  
  
'Two different spaceships just landed, one of them badly damaged. I'm headed to the crash site so give me a minute then transport yourselves to my location.'  
  
Snorting never translated well in telepathy but Vegeta always seemed to manage. 'I'm sure its nothing I can't handle. You can just go back to sleep, Kakarrot, and let the men take care of this.'  
  
Goku gave the impression he was yawning. 'Its not every day Earth gets new visitors. I'm coming out for a look. Gohan, what about you? You're still at work, aren't you? Think Videl will mind you being home later than you already are?'  
  
'Actually, yes. I was about to head for home. Pan has a recital in the morning and I promised the both of them I'd be there. You will keep me updated, right, Piccolo?'  
  
'Of course'. Piccolo experienced a brief moment of regret as Gohan's chi faded; not too many years ago the request would have sent the boy scrambling, eager to please. Time, maturity and a young family had changed all that. _This is no time for useless sentiment_, he admonished himself, feeling the water soaking deeper into his clothing. He shielded his eyes from the rain and took flight, headed for the site of the crash.  
  
Both ships had landed, if the term "landing" could be applied to the first one. It had plowed a trough in the sand and looked like it was in no condition to fly again, ever. The second appeared to be undamaged, engines idling and steaming in the rain. Piccolo, crouched on the edge of the mesa, shielded his eyes with one hand as he watched for any signs of movement. It wasn't long before the hatch on the second craft opened, a platform was lowered, and a figure emerged. It crouched briefly on the ramp, then stood and stepped out into the mud and rain.  
  
It was hard to tell in the dark, through the rain and from a distance, but the alien was obviously human-shaped and tall. It threw aside the bag it carried and took a few steps away from the ship. Its face was hidden behind a helmet and its body covered entirely in close-fitting black armor. The ship's ramp raised, the ramp closed, and the newcomer watched as it lifted into the sky and disappeared.  
  
There was movement from the wreckage.   
  
Piccolo never spared a thought of any kind on insects, but the creatures that were lining up in a half-circle facing the dark fighter were the stuff of nightmares. They stood nearly as tall as the fighter but had more bulk, their multiple spindle legs digging into the mud. There were a total of seven, one of which was bigger than the others and took the center point. A loud screech echoed off the mesa walls and up to Piccolo's sensitive ears. The actual sound didn't disturb him as much as the unexpected feeling he had heard the noise before.  
  
A bright light flared to life from an object in the fighter's hand. It reminded Piccolo of weapons used by schools of warriors who weren't gifted with a powerful chi. Two slightly curved, slender blades of clean light protruded from both ends of a short rod. Small trails of steam boiled into the air where the rain struck them. Piccolo's eyes widened as his memory gave him another nudge. He knew he'd seen a similar image before, but before he could think it through he was interrupted by a familiar surge in chi beside him.  
  
"Hey, Piccolo, what's...whoa!" Goku exclaimed after he peered down the cliff.  
  
Two other powerful chi signatures flared simultaneously. Goku winked at Vegeta and Trunks. "Look down there. Do you think we should give that guy some help? Seven to one isn't a fair fight."  
  
Vegeta stared into the rainy sky in annoyance and said nothing, but Trunks' jaw fell open. "What are those creatures? I hope that weapon is as awesome as it looks because I'm not feeling any chi from that fighter."  
  
"What do you think, Piccolo?" asked Goku.  
  
"We wait. Let's see what happens." He'd been so busy searching his memory he'd forgotten to feel for chi; Trunks was right._ I want to see how this fighter moves...this seems so familiar_, Piccolo thought with a growing sense of unease.  
  
Trunks gasped. "Look!"  
  
One of the horrors lunged at the fighter but was cut down so fast Piccolo wondered if he'd missed something. The next two that attacked were cut to pieces just as quickly. The fourth tried a different tactic, going for his legs, but the fighter performed a flip backwards that was amazingly fast for someone with no chi. The aerial stunt had put a good distance between the creature and the fighter, who drew back his arm.  
  
Vegeta suddenly leaned forward. "That looks like a..."  
  
A ball of what Piccolo could only describe as black light, edged with flares of purple, appeared around the fighter's fist. Released, it hit a force shield of some kind right in front of the creature's face and skidded around it, but the impact was enough to knock the monster off balance. The fighter took advantage of the distraction and took the head off with one sweep.  
  
"I...I don't know what that was," Trunks said slowly, "but it certainly wasn't a chi blast."  
  
"Vegeta, you've been to more planets than all of us put together," Goku said. "Have you seen anything like this before?"  
  
The Saiyan's perpetual scowl deepened. "Not personally, but there have been rumors..."  
  
"Look, the weapon's changed! It's a bo now!" Trunks exclaimed, brushing sopping hair from his eyes. "Oh, I want one..."  
  
With only three attackers left, one noticeably larger than the other two, the fighter gave the bo a spin, as if trying its weight. It wasn't long before the two smaller creatures surged forward simultaneously. Piccolo watched as the fighter suddenly used the bo to vault himself straight up and landed in a low crouch directly in front of the enemy. The bo changed into a broadsword and both attackers were sliced cleanly through the middle. The fighter rolled away to avoid the corpses then jumped back to its feet, covered head to toe in mud.  
  
"There's only one left, but its bigger," Goku said. "I wonder if he..." His comment trailed off when the fighter casually reached up and pulled off his helmet.  
  
_Why did I suspect this?_ "That's no 'he'," Piccolo growled as lightning showed him what had been just a feeling was actually reality.  
  
Trunks, Vegeta and Goku all gaped. "It's a girl!" Trunks breathed.  
  
The last creature standing had a different reaction. It screamed in what Piccolo knew had to be rage and more than a little terror. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vegeta stand up. "Guess its time to rescue another female who thinks she can fight," he sneered.  
  
"No, Dad, wait..." Trunks yelped, but in one quick move Vegeta had vanished. He reappeared and hovered just behind the girl an instant before the creature lunged forward. She was charging another of those dark missiles when Vegeta hit the monster with a real chi blast, impacting its shield and knocking it off its feet. The girl was startled but managed to keep her composure. She raised her arm, letting her own attack fly the same instant Vegeta unleashed his second.  
  
The explosion shook the cliff and lit the area in a light so bright Piccolo had to cover his eyes and turn away. He knew Vegeta's blast had not been nearly strong enough to wreak that kind of destruction; he was too clever a fighter to waste that much energy on such a small target. As the light faded, Piccolo turned back to see the extent of the damage.  
  
There was a large crater where the creature had been standing which was steaming and filling with water. The damaged spaceship had been ripped to shreds; bits and pieces of glowing wreckage were still falling to earth. Of Vegeta and the girl Piccolo could see no sign.  
  
"There they are!" Goku shouted, pointing.   
  
The blast had thrown them both far from the crater. They had landed head to head, the girl on her back and Vegeta face down. The girl stirred only a second before Vegeta raised his head. "Dad!" Trunks shouted and vanished, reappearing at his father's side. Piccolo and Goku exchanged a brief look and a nod before transporting down themselves.  
  
Vegeta and the girl got to their feet, both covered in mud. Piccolo watched as she slowly took a couple of steps backward, her glowing eyes focusing briefly on each of them. When she reached him her gaze seemed to linger a bit longer before moving back to Vegeta. "Saiyan," she said just loud enough for everyone to hear, "your interference nearly got the both of us killed."  
  
Scowling at his damaged gloves and ignoring Trunks efforts to look him over, Vegeta said, "I was just finishing what you refused to. You should be grateful I stepped in when I did."  
  
"Grateful?" Her tone was incredulous. "You really don't understand what you were dealing with, do you?"  
  
A cheerful voice piped up, "Hi, I'm Son Goku. Please don't be too offended by what Vegeta here says, he insults everyone." For good measure Goku conjured a chi light so she could see his face. Piccolo nearly smiled; even soaking wet Goku's hair managed to stand out at impossible angles. "We were watching from that cliff to see if you needed help. Obviously you didn't."  
  
For the first time Piccolo got a really good look at her face, and what he saw made him clench his fists in resolve not to back away. Underneath all the mud and the hair plastered to her face were a set of features he knew he'd seen before. By human standards she was very pretty, the straight lines of her nose and mouth locked in a stern expression he could almost recall. Her most striking feature, the one he could actually remember as an image rather than a feeling, were her eyes. They were large with long lashes and Goku's chi light made them look even more gold than he knew them to be. It was a face from the past. _I just don't know if its my past, Daimou's, Nail's or Kami's!  
_  
Goku continued on in his cheery tone when she remained silent. "Uh...it doesn't look like this rain is going to let up any time soon. Why not come back to my house? My wife ChiChi is a great cook, and I'm sure she'd love to meet you." That statement earned Goku a look of disbelief from Vegeta, Trunks and Piccolo. "You already know my name, and Vegeta...that's Trunks," the young man bowed slightly, "and the big, scary green guy over there is Piccolo."  
  
Piccolo snorted, used to such rude introductions, but he took them in the spirit Goku meant them. He did, however, step closer to the light and watched the girl carefully for her reaction. After she returned Trunks bow she graced him with one no less respectful and without fear. As she straightened her eyes met his for an instant. _I know we've met before and I think you know it too_, he thought. One brow arched slightly before she broke eye contact and looked away.  
  
"My name is Khri," she said, placing a hand over her heart and bowing to the group. "Thank you for your kind offer, Son Goku. I think I would like to dry off."  
  
_She's accepted. Good. She knows she's going to be questioned and she's willing to go through with it_, Piccolo mused. _It'll also give me some time to try and remember...  
_  
Goku grinned. "I'm sure ChiChi wouldn't mind if you stayed with us" – again the others stared at him – "but we can talk about that when we get there. Um...Piccolo?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Can you carry her? You're the tallest and...well...it would be a little awkward for the rest of us..."  
  
Piccolo hated to admit it, but Goku was right. She was so tall that if anyone else tried to carry her with any sort of dignity the positions required would indeed be...awkward.  
  
Khri blinked. "Carry? What do you mean, 'carry'...ah. You're chi users. You flew here so there's no mechanical transport."  
  
"If you'd rather walk," Vegeta sneered, "it'll take you a few days."  
  
Khri cocked her head and looked at Piccolo. Was she actually blushing? If she didn't like feeling undignified he could definitely understand that. He didn't like it either. "Isn't Goten home?" He asked. "We could instantly transport."  
  
"Sorry, Piccolo, but he's spending the night with some friends."  
  
"Fine. I'll take her."  
  
Khri's stern expression didn't change, but she inclined her head towards him. "Thank you. There are a couple of things I need to retrieve first," she said. With Goku and his chi light's help she found her weapon, sticking out of the mud. The pack she had thrown was a short distance from there and seemed to be intact. She slipped the knapsack over one shoulder and walked back to Piccolo, her jaw set. "I apologize in advance for the mud and I'll try not to be too much of a burden. Would it be easier if I removed the armor? I...ah...do have clothes on under it."  
  
Piccolo looked her up and down, trying to gauge how much weight was armor and how much was Khri. "No, you shouldn't be a problem, as long as you stay still, hold on and don't panic." To prove his point he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her easily off the ground. He felt her arms wrap awkwardly around his neck, impeded by his own armor. He looked back at Goku, who gave him a wink and a smile before taking to flight, then followed Vegeta and Trunks into the air.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

AN: I know there's a bit of backtracking in this chapter, but I felt it necessary to launch the rest of the story. It was a serious challenge to get the timing in sync with the first one! I did my best to keep the gang "in character," so hope you enjoy this latest installment. 


	3. Late Night Grilling

Errant Exile  
  
Chapter 3 -_Late Night Grilling  
_  
_"Exile has to have more benefits than just bathtubs."_ - Khri  
  
Flying! She was actually flying!  
  
Khri tried hard to ignore the fact that she was muddy and soaked to the skin, and just enjoy the sensations of flying without mechanical assistance. There was no hum of engines or weapons fire; the only sounds were the rustling of Piccolo's cloak, the wind in her ears and her own teeth chattering. Once they had left the storms far behind and Khri forgot about the arm wrapped tightly around her middle, she looked down to watch the dark plains and hills pass by as they flew. There was no moon and the stars shone clearly, their lights echoed on the earth in the form of clustered homes and tiny villages. She fought to suppress another intense shiver and failed, but Piccolo didn't complain.  
  
_All right, time to apply some discipline and assess this situation,_ Khri mentally reprimanded herself. _I'm on Earth less than five marks when I'm attacked by seven Telkarri and then nearly blown apart by a Saiyan who's race is supposed to be extinct. I then meet two more Saiyans, one of which just happens to be Son Goku, and another yet unidentified alien who, for some unknown reason, I make nervous. Well, I'm off to a smooth start._   
  
Was Son Goku's appearance really just a coincidence? The back of Khri's neck began to itch. Her original drop point was to have been a few miles from Satan City, far to the north of his home, yet he had appeared in the desert, offering help. She couldn't shake the feeling there was more, much more to this assignment than she suspected, but she had proof of nothing. Perhaps the type of questions she knew they would ask her later would give her some insight. That arrogant imbecile, Vegeta, was typical of the handful of Saiyans she'd encountered in her long lifetime, but the boy Trunks and Son Goku himself were anything but typical. Both had the same distinctive scent, Trunks less so, but there was no sign of usual arrogance, guile, mockery or pride. Goku's smile and whole demeanor had been open and honest. She had found herself trusting him immediately, which unnerved her. She gave her head a small shake at her own failings, which she instantly regretted. Hopefully Piccolo would interpret her gesture as another bout of shivering.  
  
Piccolo! Now there was another mystery she hadn't expected. She suspected he was Namekian, but his antennae were hidden by his turban and she hadn't been able to get a good look at his arms. It was a good guess but she couldn't be completely sure; there were several species that were green and had similar features like his long, pointed ears. The handful of Guru's warriors she had met on Namek many years ago had been worthy fighters, but Piccolo hadn't been among them. It was possible he could have been born after her last visit. If he had lived in one of the more remote villages, he would have been whisked to Earth under the strange circumstances that brought the entire population here. Perhaps he'd stayed on Earth after the immigration to New Namek, but why? Khri felt him staring at her again and forced herself to look straight down and watch the scenery pass far below. The last thing she wanted to do was make him more nervous than he already was.  
  
Khri thought back to the moment when Goku's chi light had given Piccolo his first good glimpse of her face. His reactions had surprised her. He was startled, then apprehensive, emotions one would expect a monster to invoke. _I must look like a half-drowned rodent who'd been rolled in a box of wet sand, but I'm certainly not monstrous! How could I possibly worry him? _There was no mistaking the hard muscle in the arm holding her; he could easily lay her flat without straining himself or using chi if he really wanted to. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his fierce stare focus on her again. It was becoming harder and harder to resist sneaking a peek back at him. _Whatever he is, he's attractive_, Khri thought. _I know a lot of flirtatious, pretty junior officers who would have a hard time restraining themselves around him_. Khri's sigh was masked by the wind, thoughts of her shipmates bringing back memories attached to very raw emotions. Those junior officers were now under a new command. Any unacceptable giggling was Ahtai's problem.  
  
The wind abruptly slowed and changed direction. Khri realized she had just run out of thinking time and Piccolo was landing. Beneath her feet she could see a dome-shaped house skirted by several trees, the light from a window casting a soft glow on the ground beside the front door. Son Goku was the first to land, followed by Vegeta and Trunks. Piccolo must have slowed his flight out of consideration for her, a point she made a note to remember as he came to a gentle landing. He bent a little and set her on her feet. "Thank you. And s...sorry about the sh...shivering," she stammered as she released him.  
  
"It wasn't a problem." Piccolo's gaze turned on the house, his eyes narrowed. "Stand back and give Goku plenty of room."  
  
Puzzled, Khri turned to look at Goku. He was standing with one hand on the door handle, scratching the back of his head with the other. Even in the dim light she could see that Trunks and Vegeta were apprehensive. "What's wrong? Is a b...bomb set to explode when he opens the d...door?" she asked Piccolo.  
  
"That's a good way of putting it."  
  
A couple of steps to the side gave Khri a glimpse through the window next to the door. Seated at the table inside was an attractive, middle-aged woman with long, dark hair, wrapped in a bathrobe. Even at a distance Khri could tell she was furious. Goku took a deep breath, opened the door and walked inside. "I'm back, ChiChi, sorry about leaving in the middle of the night, but..."  
  
"You're sorry?!" ChiChi's shrill voice rang out as she flew to her feet, knocking over her chair. "You're home from training less than a few days and you sneak out in the middle of the night without so much as a word, and you're sorry? You come back soaking wet and tracking mud all over my kitchen floor, and you're sorry? What do you think I am, a..."  
  
As the shouting continued, a devious little plan hatched itself in the back of Khri's mind._ I'm supposed to watch Son Goku's family, which includes his wife. I guess its time to put away the battle commander personae and bring out the diplomat._ "All right, I'll play," she sighed. She felt Piccolo watching carefully as she ran her fingers through her mud-soaked bangs to make them stand out, leaned back and wrung water out of her braid onto her face, then hunched over slightly and hugged herself. The shivering part was all too real and she intended to take full advantage of it. The only flaw in the plan was her armor; the stereotypical "distressed young woman" usually didn't have such luxuries. Hopefully the caked mud and the pitiful look on her face would be a big enough distraction.   
  
Khri walked over to the open door and peered around it. "Excuse me," she said meekly, interrupting ChiChi's reach for a cooking pot, "your huh...husband here and his friends were so k...kind in helping me, I d...don't know what I would have d...done if they hadn't c...come along."  
  
ChiChi's hand stopped before it reached the pot handle. "What? Goku, you brought someone home? And you just left her outside when she's obviously freezing?"  
  
Khri stepped around the door so ChiChi could see her, but remained on the threshold. She let herself shiver in earnest and was surprised at just how cold she really was. "G...Goku offered m...me a p...place to st...stay for just to...tonight, b...but if you prefer otherwise I...I understand. My n...name is K...Khri"  
  
Goku's wife circled the table, ignoring her now red-faced husband, and walked up to Khri. "You're absolutely soaked! And covered with mud! And shivering!" She grabbed Khri by the wrist and pulled her inside. "Was Goku carrying you and drop you by mistake? He's done that before."  
  
"N...no, its n...not Goku's fault at all! He and h...his friends were very heh...helpful."  
  
ChiChi frowned. "Friends? Oh. Vegeta and Piccolo." She leaned out the door. "You two might as well come in. You too, Trunks! The floor can't get any muddier than it is now!"  
  
The kitchen felt smaller as Vegeta, Trunks and Piccolo crowded their way in. ChiChi had been wrong; the floor was now covered in mud from one end to the other. The small woman looked up at Khri and suddenly smiled. "How does a hot bath sound to you?"  
  
_A bath? A real bath, in a real tub, with lots of hot water?_ Khri no longer had to fake her pathetic expression. She was only able to enjoy a good soaking during her brief visits Home. The _Aughenai_, as spacious and well equipped as she was, hadn't been plumbed for an activity deemed nothing more than a waste of water, and the showers were usually tepid. She let ChiChi guide her to the bathroom and nearly cried when she saw the big, round tub. There were thick towels and a small basket of shaped and scented soaps on a small bench nearby. "Do you need a change of clothes?" ChiChi asked, turning on the water. "I might be able to find a shirt or gi in Goku's closet that would fit you. I'm afraid mine would be too short."  
  
Khri leaned over the tub and watched the delicious steam curl up and around the faucet. "I have a c...clean change in my pack. Th...thank you, ChiChi. I'll t...try to be quick."  
  
ChiChi opened a cupboard and took out a pile of clean towels that had seen more than their fair share of use. "Don't you worry about it," she said with a smile. "I always keep tons of food in the house, and I'm sure those boys won't mind waiting if noodles are involved." She suddenly smiled. "Oh, Khri? You can dump that armor you're wearing right outside that door over there. It leads to the yard. Nobody will bother it."  
  
"Ah." Khri smiled back. "You d...didn't buy my poor little waif routine for one m...moment, did you?"  
  
ChiChi laughed softly and headed for the door leading back to the house. "It was a good try, and I'll just tell them you kept calling them heroes. Whether or not they acted like heroes doesn't really matter. I'll make sure they're fed like kings." She gave Khri a small wave and left.  
  
_Well I'll be damned_, Khri thought in astonishment. _What a performance!_ She swore she'd never underestimate ChiChi, no matter the circumstances. While the tub was filling Khri shucked off her armor as fast as she could and tossed it out the door. She pulled her clean blacks from her pack and set them aside, then stripped off her soaked undersuit. The chill against her bare skin as she unbraided her hair nearly set her teeth chattering again and made her fingers fumble. Dropping her hair clasp on the floor, she climbed into the tub and dunked herself under the gloriously hot water. _Maybe exile won't be so bad if bathtubs are standard issue..._ Khri held her breath as long as she could, letting the heat soak the cold from her arms and legs. She reluctantly surfaced, reached for the soaps and got to work.  
  
A short time later Khri stood before the mirror, dressed in her black skinsuit and jacket, and finished off her damp but clean braid by snapping the clasp in place. _At least the half-drowned rodent now looks like a battle commander, even if she isn't one,_ she thought at her reflection, chewing at the resentment she was unable to let go. She could pretend, though, and it would probably help her get through the questioning she knew waited in the kitchen. Her soggy clothes were secure in a pocket of her knapsack and she'd given ChiChi the courtesy of rinsing the sand out of the tub. That was one ally she didn't want to offend. She gave her reflection one last inspection, turned on her suit's heating system, picked up her pack and left the sanctuary of the bathroom.  
  
Seated around the kitchen table the three Saiyans, now wearing dry clothes, were finishing off ChiChi's peace offerings with noisy slurps. All three looked up from their bowls as she walked past them to deposit her pack on the floor next to the door. Piccolo stood silently off to one side, eyes closed and arms folded, leaning against the wall. He opened at least one eye to watch her as she took a position across the room. "Are you hungry?" ChiChi asked her as she poured a cup of tea and handed it to Khri. "I didn't let them eat everything."  
  
Khri politely refused the food but was thankful for the tea. "Rather than bombard me with questions, why don't I tell you what I can before you start the interrogation?" she asked her audience. "That way neither my time nor yours will be wasted. Agreed?"  
  
It wasn't the behavior they had expected and it showed. Khri had counted on it, watching their surprise as she took a long drink. "Uh...sure!" Goku said.  
  
"My name you already know. I'm here on Earth because I was assigned to come here. Don't worry, its not an invasion. I'm here alone and everything I brought with me fits in that pack over there." Khri couldn't keep an edge of bitterness out of her tone. _Here comes the hard part, for them anyway._ She set down her cup and turned to look out the window, arms folded. It was still the middle of the night, and dawn was many marks away. "Those creatures you saw me fighting are called Telkarri. They're what you'd think of as overgrown insects...like cockroaches with a few more brain cells. They move in swarms and leave destruction wherever they go. I was preparing to land on Earth when I came across their recon ship. I merely followed procedure in dealing with it. That ship should never have been allowed to come near Earth in the first place."  
  
Khri heard Goku whisper to ChiChi, "I'll fill you in later," when he saw his wife's alarmed expression.  
  
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Why? Who's supposed to prevent it?"  
  
Khri spun around and glared down at him, fists clenched. "Until about thirty Earth years ago, I was!" Her eyes glittered like brilliant cut topaz as her angry stare turned on each of them. Goku, Trunks and ChiChi all wore expressions of surprise, and Vegeta held onto his scowl. Piccolo surprised her again; he was obviously very nervous, so much so she could see sweat beading on his eye ridges as he watched her. She turned back to stare out the window, fingers itching to reach for the security of her _diacha_, which she'd tucked into its special pocket in her jacket. She had to settle on squaring her shoulders and clenching her jaw instead, reminding herself not to show fang, especially not now.  
  
"Thirty years ago my fleet was assigned to keep the Telkarri from invading this section of the galaxy. We'd had many successes before we were suddenly reassigned with no explanation. The fleet that replaced us...didn't do its job. I almost feel I should apologize for that, but I'm not the one responsible." Khri closed her eyes, feeling the unspoken weight of regret behind her own words. "A short time ago my fleet was ordered back to this sector. The Telkarri had been slipping through holes in the blockade and we were brought back to clean things up. Now that we're back in charge, no further Telkarran ships should get through." She fell silent, feeling she had allowed her anger to say too much.  
  
Vegeta's chronic sneer found its way into his voice. His chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. "You keep saying 'your' fleet as if you own it. Nice use of words if you're trying to pass yourself off as....say...Battle Commander Khri."  
  
"Who?" asked Goku and Trunks together.  
  
"I thought the name you gave us sounded familiar," Vegeta said. "There were just rumors and nobody could prove it, but Saiyan scouts kept talking about this so-called legendary warrior during their visits to the local bars for over a hundred years. 'There's a ghost fleet out there,' they'd say. Hell, even Freeza knew about the rumors. There were all sorts of names they'd throw out, like "Khri the Conqueror, Khri the Demolisher, Killer Khri, Shadow Man and more."  
  
"Vegeta, stop now." Piccolo's voice lacked the steadiness she had heard earlier.  
  
"I don't know why you'd think of trying to use the reputation of some mythical military leader to impress us," the Saiyan continued, "when you're just another female who..."  
  
"Before you continue any further, Saiyan," Khri interrupted, not bothering to turn around, "think about this. Is that what you really believe, Vegeta? That I'm an imposter?" She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes hard, her smile tight and her voice silky. "Or is it what you want to believe because the alternative is unthinkable?"  
  
Khri let the silence linger for a moment before turning around. To her satisfaction, Vegeta sat down and crossed his arms, content to just glower at her. "As for those names...'Khri the Conqueror'? I've heard of that moniker before. I always thought 'the Demolisher' name was silly, but my Second liked it so I allowed him spread it around during shore leave. But 'Shadow Man'? That one is new to me. No doubt conjured by some drunken Saiyan over a gambling table."  
  
Eyes wide and jaw dropped, Trunks asked, "you mean you really are this Battle Commander? How old are you?"  
  
"Former Battle Commander, if you must know," Khri said with a small formal bow, ignoring the second part of Trunks' question. "I'm here on Earth as a visitor, not in an official capacity." _At least not that Eldest has told me...  
_  
"Hey! How did you know Vegeta, Trunks and I are Saiyans? Well, Trunks is technically a half-Saiyan. His mom, Bulma, is human," Goku chimed in. "We know we don't look any different than humans because our tails were removed a long time ago. How did you know?"  
  
Khri managed to conjure up a genuine half smile for her host. "You want the honest answer? Saiyans have a distinctive odor. No, please don't get offended, its not bad! Its as if you burned one of those sugar cubes you put in your tea over a flame. That's all."  
  
"I have a question I've been dying to ask," Trunks said, happy to change the subject. "You don't use chi, we were able to sense that. What kind of energy were you using earlier? And can I please look at your weapon?"  
  
Khri reached inside her jacket, her smile widening. "You are correct, I don't use chi. It's hard to explain, but if you think of it as being the opposite polarity of chi you'll have a good idea of how my source of energy works. This," she said as she passed her weapon over to Trunks, "is called a _diacha_."  
  
Trunks handled it as if it were made of glass. He turned it over and over as Vegeta and Goku leaned in for a closer look. "There are no buttons, no switches. It looks like a solid tube with a handle in the middle, but I saw it change into a bo and a then a broadsword." He held it out, testing its grip and weight. "How do you turn it on?"   
  
"I'm sorry Trunks, but it won't work for chi users. Its nothing more than a funneling device that lets us shape energy in a more direct manner than just blasting it." She accepted it back from Trunks. "I'd show you, but I'd rather not run the risk of damaging ChiChi's kitchen. I'm certain we'll meet again soon and I'll give you a proper demonstration."   
  
"Well, what do you plan on doing in the morning?" ChiChi asked. "You are welcome to stay here tonight, you know."  
  
Khri paused for a moment. "I hope to get to Satan City and tend to some business. Once I find a permanent residence I'll make sure you can contact me, in case there are more questions."  
  
ChiChi smiled wickedly. "Good. That means I can kick these brutes out of here for the rest of the night."  
  
Vegeta and Trunks took the hint. "We're going back to Capsule Corp," Trunks said as he politely pushed his chair back under the table, his father doing likewise. He cocked his head at Khri. "We will be seeing you again soon, then?" he asked eagerly.  
  
"I'm not going to make myself impossible to find."  
  
Vegeta remained silent but he leveled a menacing glare full of warning at her. Khri calmly stared back, her face expressionless, until the Saiyan and his son said goodnight to everyone else and left.  
  
Goku pushed back from the table and yawned, stretching towards the ceiling. "What about you, Piccolo? You want to stay too?"  
  
Piccolo opened his eyes and stepped away from the wall. "I'll stay outside until morning, if you don't mind. Gohan asked me to let him know what happened, and I need to fill him in." He turned and met Khri's eyes, and his own suddenly widened in shock. He was obviously so upset she took a step towards him, hands away from her sides and open to show no hostility.   
  
"What is it?" Khri whispered, trying to let her open expression encourage him to say something – anything – just to give her an idea of what bothered him so much. "Is there something you want to ask me? I can't help if I don't know..."  
  
"I..." Piccolo suddenly cut off what he was going to say, turned, and rushed out the door.  
  
"I don't get it," Goku said as he began to clear the dishes from the table. Khri offered to help but he waived her away. "What is it about you that upsets Piccolo so much? I haven't seen him this upset since...since he had to face the Supreme Kai at the World Tournament!"  
  
Khri's brows raised as she hid her disappointment. "I can assure you, I am not the Supreme Kai. I don't know why I'm worrying him so much, and that's starting to make me nervous too!"  
  
"Maybe he'll tell Gohan," ChiChi offered, empty cups clattering as she placed them into the sink. "At least he's out from under my feet. He still makes me nervous after all these years, so its only fair somebody else returns the favor." She gestured to Khri with a smile reserved for conspirators. "Come with me. I'll show you where you can sleep."  
  
After saying goodnight to Goku, Khri retrieved her knapsack and let ChiChi lead her up a flight of stairs to a sparsely furnished bedroom, illuminated by a small table lamp. A low but very comfortable-looking bed rested beneath a large window. "Don't feel you need to get up early," ChiChi said, placing an extra blanket at the foot of the mattress. "When you're ready to go into the city, I'll take you in our aircar. I was planning on paying my daughter-in-law Videl and granddaughter Pan a visit tomorrow afternoon anyway."  
  
"Thank you again, ChiChi. You've been extremely generous, especially after I showed up dripping on your doorstep."  
  
The dark-eyed woman winked. "If we ladies don't stick together, all those men would run roughshod over us at every moment! See you in the morning." She left and let the door shut with a quiet click.  
  
It was technically early evening aboard the _Aughenai_, far too early for Khri to feel the need for sleep, but she did. She deactivated the heating unit, took off her jacket and draped it over a nearby chair. She tugged off her boots and set them beside it.   
  
"Oh, I'd better not forget..." Khri opened her knapsack and fished out her slimpad. Upon activation its holographic display blared red, screaming its demand that she contact the ship. She used the stylus to tap in her personal uplink code and send a simple message: 'status is go, recon and all aboard confirmed dead, have made contact with Son Goku, will update soon.' There was a personal message from Sai, expressing both his concerns for her safety and his feelings that Ahtai was doing his best to match her leadership. _Ah, Sai, you should have taken the promotion!_ She responded with a gentle, reassuring reply, then checked the missive list for word – any word – from Eldest. The lack of communication from him reopened still raw wounds. With a long sigh, Khri ended the uplink and deactivated the pad. She returned it to her pack and reached for the fasteners on the back of her suit. Her fingers froze..._Piccolo is outside! I don't want to think he'd be too curious, but just to be safe..._ she switched off the table lamp and the room went dark. Her suit soon joined the jacket on the chair.  
  
The pillow was thick and the ticking full, the mattress comfortable, and the blankets were soft with wear but still warm. All in all the bed was nothing like the one in her cabin aboard the _Aughenai_; her only complaint was that if she tried to lay flat her feet would stick out the bottom. The sheets against her bare skin smelled faintly of flowers and fresh air. The room was so quiet Khri thought she'd have trouble sleeping; she was accustomed to the distant thrum of the engines and hiss of the air filtration systems. She lay on her side with the bedding pulled up to her nose, watching the field of stars slowly drift outside the window. _Maybe exile won't be such a terrible thing for a while_, she yawned to herself, closing her eyes. _Now if I can only determine why I make Piccolo so nervous..._ she let herself fall into sleep.

_To Be Continued_...

* * *

AN: Thanks to all my readers and reviewers! This chapter is pretty thick, and I hope to finish the next installment before I leave town next week to attend a wedding. Reminder -- if you haven't read the prequel, "One Good Deed," I strongly suggest you do so before reading further! 


	4. A Friend In Need, Indeed

AN: This chapter was reloaded on 7/27/04 to re-insert the italics that Fanfic wouldn't let me put in last time!

* * *

Errant Exile  
  
Chapter 4 - _"A Friend In Need, Indeed"  
_  
_This...just...isn't...working!  
_  
After what felt like hours of teeth grinding and frustration, Piccolo finally gave up on trying to meditate. Each time he managed to put aside his emotions and begin to focus, an old memory would surface and he'd have to start the struggle all over again. Normally he found dark, clear nights like this one to be soothing, especially in the quiet country where Goku and ChiChi lived, but it nothing to help calm his turmoil. He watched as small tendrils of ground fog snaked their way over the grass under his feet as he hovered beneath a tree. He ears caught the soft burble of the nearby river and the occasional chirp of a night animal; all sounds he normally found comforting. They were all being drowned out by his own internal voice screaming questions. _Why her? Why is she here now? How long will it be before she recognizes me? What will she say when she does? Does she even remember me? Am I worrying over nothing?  
_  
The moment he'd seen the Telkarri skitter out of their wrecked ship, old memories, broken and nearly forgotten, had started to piece themselves back together. Some of them had still had strong emotions attached – fear, anger, curiosity and frustration – but others he could almost physically feel. The tang of blood not his own on his fangs and tongue. The stench of burning meat. A painfully loud, echoing screech and the acrid whiff of acid eating into metal. He looked down at his large hands and rubbed his fingertips together. They held memories of their own; the feel of gathering chi and its blast into one of those creatures. The texture of warm, black fabric and lean muscle inside a sleeve. The sound of someone breathing, the feel of a heartbeat beneath his palm and a strange feeling of security. His hand went to the spot between his antennae, remembering a soft touch there. The clearest memory was actually an image of a pair of gold eyes like mirrors, and he once wondered if he could see his reflection in them. He couldn't remember if her voice had been soft or gruff, but fragments of something Khri had said were lingering in the back of his mind. Words of advice, and a challenge.  
  
_Khri! Her name is Khri!_ Until Vegeta had starting ticking off a list of less than flattering nicknames, Piccolo realized he couldn't recall her real one. He knew for certain she didn't know his. He felt himself flushing in remembered indignation when another memory nudged him, giving him the name she had dubbed him with and the one he'd used in tournaments since.  
  
_Junior.  
_  
Piccolo looked up at the bedroom window through which Khri slept. Earlier he'd seen colored lights flicker in addition to the lamp light and had been tempted to take a closer look, but the last thing he wanted was to draw her attention. Not now, when his memories were so fragmented and he couldn't trust himself to speak to her. Perhaps he could get some advice from...Gohan! He'd forgotten to update Gohan on what had happened. Snarling at himself for allowing his emotions to distract him, he reached out for the chi of his past student and present friend.  
  
Gohan responded quickly. 'Piccolo! I've been waiting to hear from you! What happened? Is everything ok? Earth's not being invaded again, is it?'  
  
'No, Gohan, Earth is not being invaded.'  
  
Piccolo could feel his friend reaching back to him with his chi and noticed it was more of a challenge for Gohan than it used to be. He had abandoned his physical training for a life as a scholar, husband and father several years ago. Piccolo didn't approve, but Gohan had his own life to live and it didn't include time for sparring. There were still some things, unfortunately, that he had always been quick to notice. 'Piccolo, I've...I don't think I've seen you this... agitated...about something before. What's going on? Does it have anything to do with what happened tonight?'  
  
'Yes...and no. It's a long story, Gohan.' _Just how much do I want to tell him?_ 'It goes all the way back to just a few months after the twenty-second World Tournament. I don't remember much from that time period, but now its important that I do.'  
  
'Just after the twenty-second World Tournament? Wait, Piccolo, wouldn't that make you...'  
  
'A very little kid? Yeah. I was. Its one of the reasons why I'm having so much trouble remembering...her.'  
  
Gohan's amazement hit him like a good punch. 'Her? Whoa, let's back up a second. Who is this 'her' and and what does she have to do with what happened tonight?'  
  
'Like I said, it's a long story.' Piccolo took a deep breath. 'I had snuck into a tournament, hoping to see your father fight so I could improve my own training. We both know my motives for that. I met her...Khri...when I...tripped over her feet. She wouldn't let me go after that, so I kept trying to force her to. Gohan, this is embarrassing...'  
  
'Go ahead, Piccolo.' His tone was understanding and encouraging. 'You know I won't tell anyone unless you want me to.'  
  
Piccolo felt himself flush again and clenched his fists. 'I....uh...I bit her.'   
  
'Hard?'  
  
'Hard enough to draw blood. I was proud of it, too, and didn't hide it.' Piccolo closed his eyes. 'She probably hasn't forgotten that.'  
  
'Well, what did she do after that?'  
  
He let his smirk carry into his reply. 'She called me a name and swore at me, which I deserved.' Another unexpected memory popped up and he growled with indignation. 'Then she...she threatened to spank me!'  
  
If Gohan was laughing, he had the decency not to let Piccolo hear it. 'She sounds formidable, Piccolo! What does she look like?'  
  
'Like a kid, maybe a few years older than Trunks. Tall, long blonde hair she wears in a braid and gold eyes that glow in the dark. She was wearing the same kind of black uniform tonight that she wore all those years ago. She hasn't aged a day.'  
  
'Is she attractive?'  
  
_Why all the questions about her looks?_ Piccolo wondered. 'Yes. Trunks seemed pretty eager to find out when he'd see her again. Gohan, what she looks like isn't important. She can pass herself off as human if she wants to.'  
  
'All right, I was just curious. So, it sounds like the main the reason you're worried is that she'll eventually recognize you, remember your first meeting and then tell her side of the story to my mother, or worse yet Bulma. Is that right?'  
  
Piccolo thought hard about that. Yes, the story would be very embarrassing personally -- his juvenile boasting and threats, his biting her, the threatened swat on the rear, being carried around like a child's toy, his wanting to fight her -- all those details and probably more he hadn't remembered yet. If word of this ever got to Bulma...he shuddered, bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Everyone would get a huge laugh at the idea of a girl turning their former enemy, the Demon King, over her knee and administering corporal punishment. 'Yes.'  
  
'I take it you don't want to talk to her about it,' Gohan asked wryly.  
  
'Talk to her?' Piccolo's head snapped up and he nearly started shouting at Gohan out loud. 'Do you know what happened tonight? I started remembering who she was not too long after she landed. I carried her all the way back to Goku's house and couldn't keep myself from staring at her. As I was about to leave I finally remembered who she was and how I knew her, and I almost panicked! She saw that I was upset and asked me why!' Piccolo knew he was probably giving Gohan a headache but he didn't care. 'I couldn't even say one word to her because I'm afraid she'll figure out who I am!'  
  
'Piccolo, if you start avoiding her and freaking out when you do see her, she's going to become suspicious, if she isn't already! You're going to have to talk with her, and soon, if you want to avoid an embarrassing situation. Not all women are like Bulma and my mother. She might be the type who would happily keep your secret. If you approach her first you'll have some control over how, where and when she finds out. You don't want this to be the discussion at Bulma's next party, do you?'  
  
'Gohan, if you're trying to scare me...its working.'  
  
'Just think about it, ok? You're not a little kid anymore, so she's not going to realize who you are right away. You've got some time, but you shouldn't wait too long. In all honesty, Piccolo, she sounds like she was treating you as if you were an ordinary child.' Gohan's tone became introspective. 'As a father, if Pan were to sink her teeth into me, I'd punish her if only to make sure she didn't try it again. Adults usually don't hold grudges against children for what they did as kids. Now, you've told me about your past experience with Khri. What about the present? What happened tonight?'  
  
Piccolo did his best to explain the events from earlier that night; how two different ships had appeared in the desert, Khri's fight with the Telkarri and Vegeta's interference, and the conversation in Goku and ChiChi's kitchen. 'Gohan, I almost forgot...Vegeta said Khri is a famous commander and has a reputation. He says Saiyans used to tell stories about her but always thought they were just rumors. He's pissed at the moment because it was always assumed Battle Commander Khri was a man.' Piccolo's mental voice softened as another memory came forward. 'I remember now why she was at that Tournament. It's the same reason she was in the desert tonight. I'm sure she was trying to protect Earth.'  
  
Piccolo could hear Gohan's tired sigh. 'It sounds like Khri is a very smart, mature woman who wields a lot of power. Vegeta might be making a big mistake by underestimating her, and it sounds like her own people are wasting her by sending her here...Piccolo, I've got an idea. Do you know what she's going to do tomorrow?'  
  
''ChiChi said she'd take her to Satan City in the afternoon.'  
  
'Perfect! Videl and Pan are supposed to meet my mother after the recital for lunch. I'll talk to Videl – don't worry, I won't tell her anything about your history with Khri – and see if she'll ask Khri to join them. Between my wife and my mother, they should be able to find out more about your friend.'  
  
'Friend? I never said she was my friend.' Then what is she? The irritating question came up, unasked for and unwanted.  
  
'Piccolo, if she let you take a bite out of her and didn't throw you through a brick wall, she's your friend. I'm going to go home now before Videl throws me through a brick wall for being so late. We'll talk again tomorrow, ok? Hopefully I'll know more by then.'  
  
'Fine. Thanks, Gohan'  
  
Piccolo let his link to Gohan dissolve. He knew it had to be hours after midnight, which still left him plenty of time to think about his situation. _Gohan is right. I've got to talk to Khri before she figures it out on her own. I wish I knew how she'll react_, he thought. _Why am I so worried about this? What's the worst she could do, act like ChiChi and start screaming at me? Feh, its not as if I haven't put up with that before. And if she did decide to make an issue of it, why should I care?_ He crossed his arms tighter, determined not to waste any more time ruminating on a conversation that hadn't happened yet. He glared at the upstairs bedroom window again, this time in resentment. _I haven't even talked with her and she's interfering with my life!  
_  
As he stared at the window, a new idea occurred to him. Khri didn't use chi – her energy source was unlike anything he'd ever seen – but could she be sensed with chi?   
  
Tentatively Piccolo reached out towards her, feeling for the slightest hint of power, but found nothing. He sighed and was about to back away when he noticed a shadow where her aura should have been. _No, shadow isn't the right word_...it was almost as if there was a depression, a blank spot, where he should have found her chi. He could only describe it as a total absence of chi, like a picture hanging on a wall without a frame. He wanted to study it further, but Khri must have felt his probing in her sleep; the blank spot changed. It almost seemed to solidify and become resistant to his testing. Piccolo drew back cautiously, not wanting to wake her. Puzzled and more than a little curious, he pushed aside his memories of her and started going through long ignored ones that belonged to Kami, hoping to find a clue. He worked hard not to look to closely at most of them because they tended to spur feelings of loathing for the old man, but he couldn't find any information on Khri's energy source.

_I think I need to talk to Dende, and soon. If he doesn't know about what's happened already, he soon will. _Resigned to a long, unproductive wait until morning, Piccolo closed his eyes and tried not to think at all.

_To Be Continued..._


	5. Times That Bind

AN: Language warning! Its just one word, but nothing else would do...

* * *

> Errant Exile  
  
Chapter 5 - _"Times that Bind"__   
_  
_"Live. Push yourself. Question. Learn. Take the challenges as they come and examine them once they've been conquered. Don't let others force you into a path they think you should take...If you can accomplish all that and still want to face me...I'll be waiting."_ - Khri's parting words to "Junior"

Morning sunlight, unimpeded by a curtain or shade of any kind, blasted through the bedroom window, bringing a chorus of birdsong in with it. Khri rolled over onto her stomach and pulled the pillow tighter over her head. _Gaah! Where did the Fleet Commander park the_ Aughenai _this time, in front of a blue giant_? She wished she could squeeze her ears shut too and block out the infernal, squeaking racket that had to be the product of a critically failing machine.  
  
Then she remembered she wasn't in her quarters on the _Aughenai_.  
  
Khri threw aside the pillow and sat up, staring at the unfamiliar surroundings. Last night's events had not been a stress-induced dream! She still lay on the too-short bed in the rustic but spotless bedroom, her uniform draped neatly over a chair. She raked her hair from her eyes and glanced out the window. There was only blue sky dotted with the occasional cloud and no sign of the tall, green man who had carried her here. _Maybe Piccolo has left already_, she wondered, but wrapped herself tightly in the bed sheet before creeping over to the window. Standing off to one side, she peered out and down into the Son's yard but still saw no sign of Piccolo. _Now I feel really stupid_, she thought irritably, reaching for her clothes.  
  
As she got dressed, Khri mulled over the events of the previous night with more than a little wonder. Before she had left the _Aughenai_ for exile, she never imagined she would make contact with Son Goku and his family so quickly and in such a "spectacular" manner. Today, however, was a new day and she had a lot to accomplish. She made the bed to billet standards, pulled on her boots, got her comb from her pack and put her hair back into its regulation-standard braid. She checked her slimpad for messages and was relieved to find none of them needed an urgent reply. According to its clock the day was newer than she had first thought; sunrise had only been a little more than an hour ago. Khri slid the pad back into her pack, hefted it to one shoulder, and quietly opened the door.  
  
Distant sounds of a waking house echoed up the staircase. Khri heard the clang of cooking pots and the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, as well as the voices of ChiChi and a sleepy-sounding Goku. She walked softly down the stairs, made quick use of the bathroom, then followed the scent of food into the kitchen.  
  
ChiChi was standing in front of the stove, pouring water from a steaming kettle into a waiting teapot. Seated at the table was Goku, his mouth stuffed too full with to say 'good morning,' so he waved at her instead. "You're up early!" ChiChi said, smiling in mild surprise as she carried the tea try over to the table. "After such a late night I thought you'd sleep in. Would you like some breakfast?"  
  
Right on cue, Khri felt her stomach twinge in hunger. It had been a long time since her last meal, which had been a ship's ration bar softened with a glass of water. The miserable things were mostly tasteless protein and vitamins, complete with suspicious pseudo-vegetable bits, which were very nutritious if your stomach didn't heave them back out. The smells wafting from the pots and platters on the table were very enticing. She thanked ChiChi and Goku pulled out a chair for her, then he grabbed an unused plate and began heaping it with enough food for a Saiyan army. "I heard your tummy growl," he said with a grin.  
  
Khri burst out laughing and startled herself. _When was the last time I did that?_ Goku favored her with a goofy grin, rightfully oblivious to the fact she'd done something remarkable. _I'm on Earth less than a day and not only do I get a soak in a real bathtub, a Saiyan – of all people! – has made me laugh._ Accepting the offered seat, she tucked her pack between her feet. Khri started with the familiar rice and moved onto the "scrambled eggs" at Goku's enthusiastic prompting. After a few bites of toasted bread and fish, she gratefully accepted the cup of tea ChiChi offered her.  
  
Goku stared at her, aghast. "You hardly ate anything!"  
  
"I don't need much," Khri said, smiling at him over her cup. "Besides, I know that Earth food is very rich. It won't take many meals like this one before my uniform no longer fits!"   
  
All through breakfast Khri had been covertly watching ChiChi. The small woman had started the meal in a happy mood, but the expression in her eyes went from guarded worry to outright anger as she cleared the plates from the table. To Khri it was obvious that Goku was pretending not to notice, but when it came time to leave the kitchen he did so with shoulders hunkered and a painful expression on his face. He walked through the living room and over to the door, where he picked up a duffle bag she hadn't noticed earlier. Goku shoved a cap down over his hair and lifted his jacket from its hook.  
  
"Is that it, then?" ChiChi stood in the doorway to the kitchen, casually drying a clean frying pan with a dishcloth. "You're leaving? You're not even going to wait for Goten to come home so he can say goodbye?"  
  
Goku's face reddened and he smiled weakly. "ChiChi, I told Uub I'd meet him back at the training grounds today! He's doing so well, I don't want to ease up on his training! I'll be back here in just a few weeks, I promise!"  
  
Moving as unobtrusively as possible, Khri shifted her pack to her shoulder and inched towards the door. This was one fight in which she would never get involved! Goku's strength, as formidable as it was, was no match in a contest of wills with ChiChi. She reached for the doorknob and escaped outside just as the storm hit. "You promise!?" The furious screech echoed far beyond the walls. "What did you promise me the day we got married, Son Goku? Have you kept that promise!? No, you haven't! And if you think you're going to..." Khri shut the door but it didn't entirely muffle the tirade. She jumped back when ChiChi's frying pan, which she'd probably aimed at Goku, hit the backside of the door instead with a loud bang.  
  
"It looks like you got out of there just in time."  
  
Khri snapped around to see Piccolo standing several feet away from the house. His arms were folded across his broad chest as he favored her with a smug smile, completely unconcerned with the battle raging inside. Another big thud hit the door and Khri flinched. "I take it this happens often?" she asked him.  
  
"Every time Goku leaves for long periods. He never gets away with fewer than three or four lumps on his thick skull."  
  
_Maybe I should ask her if she'd train a few of the_ Aughenai's _cooks in both cuisine and cutlery combat skills_, Khri wondered, only half joking. Her amusement became curiosity when she realized that Piccolo's attitude towards her had changed overnight. He appeared to be in complete control of himself this morning, and any signs of nervousness and discomfort were either gone or hidden behind a mask of calm resolve. "I'm surprised you're still here," she ventured, head cocked slightly. "If Goku and ChiChi make a habit of armed combat every time he walks out the door, why would you stay to listen to it?" She cringed as yet another pot-turned-projectile weapon banged against the wall.  
  
"I need to talk to you," Piccolo said. "Away from here. Someplace a little more...quiet."  
  
"Immediately?"  
  
Piccolo nodded. "Now," he insisted with more intensity.  
  
"It would only be polite to leave a note for ChiChi. I'd rather not interrupt their 'discussion' right now."  
  
"Don't worry about it. They'll figure it out." His snort was almost a laugh. "She'll just blame Goku for driving you out and then blame me for kidnapping you."  
  
Khri stared at him, trying to ignore the maddening itch at the back of her neck. He must have come to terms with whatever had been upsetting him and was ready to talk, and she was more than a little curious to find out what he wanted to say. She remembered her armor, probably caked with dried mud outside the back door; she could retrieve it later. "I will go with you," she said, "but would you prefer to bring me back here or take me to Satan City? I have business there I can't leave waiting."  
  
His reply was quick, almost too quick. "I'll take you to the city. Its not far from where we're going." He closed the few steps that remained between them and raised his right arm. "Will you allow me to carry you?"  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected respectful manner. She had pegged Piccolo as the strong, silent type that spoke only when necessary and even then sparingly, and that type usually didn't waste words on niceties like courtesy. "Yes." Khri stifled a gasp as his arm curled around her waist again. "I suppose you're not inclined to tell me where we're going," she asked, looping her arms around his neck.  
  
"We'll get there soon enough," he rumbled, then took off.  
  
The morning was clear, bright and warm, and Khri was able to see from horizon to horizon. Small white clouds and the occasional aircraft shared the sky with them as a patchwork landscape scrolled out below. Unlike Home, Earth's population seemed to have a preference for round, domed buildings that ranged from small homes all the way up to sphere-capped skyscrapers. She lost track of time as she closed her eyes and let the wind rush past her face, ruffling her bangs and the shorter wisps of hair that curled in front of her ears. Long months spent confined in a battle cruiser made it easy to forget just what living on a planet could be like...if flying through the air with a tall, green fighter counted as 'planetside living.' Khri opened her eyes when the airflow shifted in what she was coming to recognize as landing. Piccolo brought her down on a small, grassy hilltop and set her on her feet just as gently has he had the previous night. Before she could ask him the obvious question of 'where are we,' Piccolo turned and walked a short distance away.  
  
_Another game? One called 'stalling for time'? All right, I'll play this one too...for the moment.   
_  
The hilltop he had selected as a landing spot overlooked a small valley packed with neat, identical houses, all lined up on pristine streets with manicured lawns and gardens. A few mature trees had been allowed to keep their sentinel posts as long as they lived within the confines of private yards. A major road tying all the streets together headed towards the towers of a distant city. On the other side of the hill loomed a large public stadium surrounded by a parking lot. The lot was completely empty of aircars and busses except for a couple of security vehicles, and no sounds of a crowd cheering for favored tournament fighters carried on the breeze.  
  
Cheering? Crowd? Fighters?   
  
Khri felt her mouth go dry as she whirled around to look back at the street-lined valley. It had once been a lush park, full of scenic paths, large trees and benches, and at one time had served as a landing pad and hiding place for a combat shuttle from the _Aughenai_. The paths and the park were gone, stripped away by progress and time. Khri felt her knees start to go mushy as she slowly turned around to stare at Piccolo's back, his white cloak rustling softly in the wind. Her tongue formed the only two words her brain could come up with. 

"Oh...shit!"  
  
"Someone once gave me a challenge," Piccolo said roughly, his attention seemingly focused on the empty stadium. "'Live,' she said, and I did. She told me to push myself, to question and learn, and I've done all of those. Challenges have come and gone, and I'll be damned before I let anybody force me down a path I don't want to take. And as for my accomplishments..." Piccolo slowly turned to face her, reached up and removed his turban, revealing what she'd suspected all along; a pair of slender, green antennae. He dropped the turban and removed his weighted cloak, tossing it aside as well, then moved gracefully into a battle stance. "I think I'm up to that fight now." His eyes had narrowed to slits, but his mouth hinted at a wicked smile. "Are you?"  
  
Khri stared at the tall, muscular Namekian, able to do nothing more than blink. All rational thought ground to a halt like a broken engine as she realized just how powerful Piccolo had become. Only years of discipline let her face keep an expression of total calm instead of the complete shock she now felt, but it did nothing for the weakness in her knees. She took a deep, steadying breath, then took a tentative step forward. When her knees didn't buckle, she clenched her fists and walked directly up to Piccolo and stepped inside his stance. His eyes widened when she leaned in until they were nose-to-nose but he didn't give any ground. Khri swallowed, searching his face for something to recognize and whispered a single word.

"Junior?"  
  
Piccolo scowled, crinkling the skin over his nose between his eyes ridges. "I'd appreciate it if you never, ever call me that again." Another memory popped up; Junior's face had worn those same wrinkles when he frowned!  
  
Khri eased back, tightly folded her arms and fought to keep her smile as small as possible. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around him in a big hug, but she doubted it would be well received. _I don't think another kiss between the antenna would go over well either_, she thought, so she reluctantly settled on being neutral. "It's...its good to see you. When I knew I was coming back to Earth I couldn't help but wonder if I might find you. I was going to look for you, to see how you had fared. I expected it to take days, possibly weeks, but I never imagined it would be so soon." He must not have expected that statement either because he relaxed a bit and raised one eye ridge. "As for that name..." Khri let her eyes run down him quickly before bowing her head and closing them. "Its easy to think of you as just Piccolo. You don't resemble Ju....er...that little Namekian I met here years ago." She grinned. "Except, perhaps, for a bit of your attitude." Weathering another of his blistering scowls, Khri took a few steps away, then paused to look at him over her shoulder. "I'll admit, I'm very impressed you remembered what I said to you all those years ago. As for that fight...I concede the match. You win."  
  
"What?!" Piccolo roared. "You can't concede! I lived up to your challenge, now I demand you keep your end of it!"  
  
A trickle of irritation pushed Khri back to her Battle Commander personae. "You're in no position to demand a thing from me, Namekian," she said, turning back to glare at him, her own fists clenched. "Any fight between us would be a joke! Not only are you a powerful chi user, you're easily twice my mass and could lay me flat with one blow. I can't risk using blackfire for offense or defense because of its incompatibility with chi. Even the smallest impact would take out this hill and probably that entire neighborhood." She uncrossed her arms and clasped her hands behind her back. "If you still want to pound me, go ahead, but any fighter of your caliber would find it boring."  
  
Piccolo stared at her for a long time, then he relaxed and unclenched his fists. "You are the most damned strange woman I've ever met."  
  
"Would you prefer it if I screamed at you and threw pots and pans like ChiChi? I could ask her to lend me some."  
  
"No!"  
  
Now that his temper was defused – at least for the moment – Khri felt a strange sense of disappointment settle over her like a cold, damp blanket. She never imagined she'd find him this quickly, so she hadn't spent any time thinking about what she would say. _I knew he probably wouldn't be thrilled to see me, but I never expected a confrontation like this. I always imagined I'd be the one to find him first, not the other way around._ Khri walked around Piccolo and sat down in the grass, hugged her knees to her chest, and stared at the tidy little houses and streets nestled in the small valley. _I miss the park. I haven't thought about it once in all these years, but right now I really wish it was still there.  
_  
A shadow briefly blocked the sunlight. Piccolo had seated himself on the lawn beside her, legs crossed and arms folded. The silence was awkward but Khri had no intention of filling it first. She didn't know what to say and fumbling for small talk wasn't one of her favorite past times. She doubted the Namek bothered with it at all.  
  
Piccolo broke the silence by clearing his throat. "I...don't have good memories of when we first met. My life then was...difficult. I'd forgotten completely about it until last night, and since then I've been remembering more and more."  
  
He was making her a peace offering and she accepted it. "Memories from such a young age are usually hard to dredge up, and rarely make sense because of their perspective. Forgetting about it is completely understandable."  
  
"So, what do you remember?"  
  
Khri stared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Everything."  
  
His voice became a hoarse growl. "I was afraid you'd say that."  
  
She ducked her face behind her arm to hide a smile. "You weren't that rotten! Do you remember the battle with the Telkarri and how you tried to help? When the situation went critical you seemed to understand what was going on."  
  
"I remember." Piccolo let another long pause pass before he spoke again. "I'm...I'm sorry I bit you."  
  
Resisting the urge to rub her wrist, Khri slowly turned her head to look at Piccolo, who's eyes were downcast. "Ah...when you were misbehaving and I made that threat to...well...deal with your head through your backside? I really wouldn't have done it. Honestly."  
  
He opened his eyes and gave her a fang-filled grin. "You would have regretted trying it."  
  
"I don't doubt that," she grinned back. "I know there hasn't been much time, but have you told anyone about this story since last night?"  
  
"Just Gohan. He's Goku and ChiChi's oldest son. He was my student and is now a good friend."  
  
_He must be a good friend for Piccolo to trust him with this._ Khri leaned back and stretched her long legs out in front of her. "If he prompted you to talk with me quickly, he's definitely a good friend who's also very wise. I don't think Vegeta will give a second thought to your behavior, and I really doubt Goku has enough thoughts to waste at all, so your nervousness last night might not ever be mentioned by them again. ChiChi and Trunks, however, are a different matter. It might take a little obfuscation on our part, but I think we can keep the topic from coming up again. If I'm asked about it I'll just say 'Piccolo thought he recognized me from somewhere.' Truth but not the whole story." She looked expectantly at him. "Is there a different excuse you think would work better?"  
  
"I'd usually just tell them to mind their own business, but your idea might work better. Quick thinking."  
  
Leaning back on her elbows, Khri twined her fingers through thick blades of grass and clover. "It's all part of my job, Piccolo," she sighed. "At least it was part of my job."  
  
Piccolo looked down at her; this time his frown was a puzzled one. "Exactly why did you come back to Earth?"  
  
_To Be Continued..._

* * *

AN: I apologize for the abrupt ending, but I was anxious to get the next segment out! The next installment is in progress to it shouldn't be too long before I get it posted. 


	6. Castle in the Sky

Errant Exile  
  
Chapter 6: - _"Castle in the Sky "  
_  
_"Exactly why did you come back to Earth?_" - Piccolo to Khri, Chapter 5   
  
Fingers tightened and pulled out a large clump of grass and moist earth. The mass crumbled as she squeezed her hand to a fist. "Piccolo, I don't know." She brushed her hands off, sat up and hugged her knees again. "When the Leonid fleet returned to this part of the galaxy a few days ago, I received very odd orders from the head of the Clan's offices. I'm supposed to live here on Earth and stick close to Goku and his family."  
  
"Goku? Why?"  
  
Khri shook her head. "I have absolutely no idea. Until last night I'd never met Goku, although I'd read reports about him. Eldest, our Clan patriarch, has access to information I can only dream about, so I have to hope he's got a good reason for sending me here indefinitely. The orders came on such short notice I didn't even have time to research the Son family before I left." The bitterness was back, but it didn't feed as strongly this time. "I'm flying blind, Piccolo. I have no information, just hunches and feelings. I hate making decisions based on those alone."   
  
"Sometimes they're more reliable than you think," Piccolo said. "I know that certain Kaios don't have any qualms about getting involved. They'll nudge people to get them to act the way they want them to."  
  
Khri took a deep breath. The conversation was turning out to be more productive than she had hoped. Trust was a thing she rarely gave to anyone – it had taken more than ten years for Sai to prove himself – but Piccolo was demonstrating far more insight than she could have hoped for. "You have personal experience with Kaio interference, don't you?"  
  
Piccolo snorted. "You could say that."  
  
She swivelled to face him and crossed her legs. "Will you please tell me?"  
  
"You probably won't believe me."  
  
"Don't underestimate my ability to accept what sounds unbelievable, Piccolo."  
  
The big Namekian gave her a hard look, but relented. "Fine," he said, crossing his arms a little tighter. "I was 'trained' in the afterlife by Kaio-Sama before Gohan wished me back to life with the Dragonballs from Namek. The Supreme Kai himself came to Earth to try and prevent the release of a creature named Buu. Don't even ask me about Kami-Sama. Goku has far more experience with the afterlife than I do, fortunately, so you might want to talk to him."  
  
Piccolo's claims were, on the surface, too far fetched to be taken seriously, but Khri knew better. "So they are willing to interfere that directly," she whispered. "I was hoping I was wrong." When Piccolo eyed her curiously, taken aback that she believed him so readily, she continued. "Over the years, I've had a growing theory, a 'hunch,' that my Clan had drawn the attention of Kaio-Sama. I haven't spoken to this about anyone and I don't dare because there's no way I can prove such an outlandish thing. I also think Eldest knows all about it, and might even be a willing participant. There have been many times when unconventional orders have come from Home; orders that made little sense at the time. There was nothing so outrageous that it looked like divine intervention at the onset, but nearly all of the outcomes were dramatic, if not historical. It was one of those strange orders that sent me here, to Earth. And now you tell me that the Supreme Kai has been here." Khri shuddered. "If he's involved..."  
  
"Now who is jumping to conclusions?" Piccolo asked, arching an eye ridge. "Don't you think you're being paranoid?"  
  
"Yes, I do. But look at all that's happened in less than one day! I've met the one person I was ordered to contact by an apparent accident. And now I find you – someone I met over thirty years ago and wanted to find again – and discover you're a friend of his! It could be a coincidence, but I have to consider the alternative and I don't like it." Khri frowned up at him in suspicion. "Just how did you four learn about the crash so quickly? Telkarri don't use chi and neither do I, so you couldn't have detected it that way."   
  
For an instant Piccolo looked uncomfortable. "That was my doing. I was in the desert and happened to see it. I notified them. If you're being watched or even influenced by Kaio-Sama or Kaio-Shin, what do you think you can do about it?"  
  
It was Khri's turn to snort. His admission just added to her suspicions but she let the subject pass. "Not a lot. While I admit that the times I believe they've interfered things did turn out for the best, I'd like a little more guidance." Her mouth tweaked into a cynical half-smile. "There have been times when I've wanted to curse the both of them."  
  
Piccolo smiled too. "I've done it. More than once, too."  
  
Khri looked at the stadium, letting the memory of the bygone tournament superimpose itself over the currently empty arena. Judging by the shadows the morning had passed into early afternoon, yet she hadn't noticed. She closed her eyes, feeling the breeze in her face again, and a new thought occurred to her. _What is this feeling? Is it contentment? Or is it relief because a mystery has been solved, a loose end I left finally tied up? Whatever it is, its causing me to behave a bit irresponsibly. I'm having a conversation with a most unexpected, unlikely person I barely know about things I could never discuss with anyone else, and he understands!_ " I hate to do this," she said softly and with all sincerity, getting to her feet, "but I must ask you to take me to the city now. There's a lot I need to accomplish today so I really need to get started. _I also need time to think about things_, she thought as he stood up. "I don't suppose you know of a good hotel?"  
  
Piccolo retrieved his weighted cloak. "Is money a concern?" he asked, sliding his turban back in place.  
  
"Ha! My expenses on Earth are being paid directly by my Clan and not from military expenditures." She gave him a sly smile. "Rumor says that account is bottomless, but I'm very tempted to see if I can find it."  
  
The Namekian thought long and hard for a moment. "I've heard Gohan talk about the Satan City Continental, large hotel where he occasionally has conferences. He's says its nice if you afford it. He's never stayed there himself because he lives in the city."  
  
Khri retrieved her pack from where she'd dropped it. "That should work nicely. Once I've checked in I'll let Son Goku and ChiChi know where I am. It would be rude of me to leave my armor outside their back door."  
  
Piccolo raised his right arm in what she recognized as his offer to carry her, but she hesitated.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
She arched one golden eyebrow at him. "You're not going to drop me or anything...because of the way I carried you around all those years ago, are you?"  
  
His eyes narrowed and his smile was anything but reassuring. "You'll just have to trust me."  
  
The corner of Khri's mouth curled upward as she allowed him to hold her around the waist again. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she didn't say anything about the massive Leonid fleet not too far from Earth, which would be more than a little peeved to have their Battle Commander in exile injured from an 'accidental' fall.  
  
Much to her relief, Piccolo resisted the urge to enact a little revenge while flying. They arrived at Satan City in very short order; the Continental Hotel, which he pointed out, was one of the tallest buildings downtown. Most of it was covered in shining, reflective gold glass and it was one of the few towers not capped by a dome or bubble. She expected him to land near the entrance to the lobby, but instead he came down a half block away in front of a row of small shops..  
  
Khri looked around in confusion as nearby shoppers either stopped to stare or backed away. One frumpy woman screamed and hurried away, dragging an ice-cream covered child behind her. One aircar pulled away from the curb too fast to be safe and a group of teenage boys quickly ducked into a flower shop. "What the hell?" Khri growled as Piccolo released her. "I know I'm a little tall and my uniform makes me look overdressed for the climate, but I can't look that bad! Surveillance reports never implied Earthers were this rude! Piccolo, why did you land so far from the..." She paused when she saw his face. He was staring at her in total shock, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Didn't it occur to you they're scared of _me_?" he asked incredulously.  
  
Khri was taken aback. "You? Why would they be afraid of you?"  
  
Piccolo continued to stare at her in disbelief, ignoring the shoppers that continued to step as far from them as possible. He finally closed his jaw and frowned down at her. "We're not through talking."  
  
"I would certainly hope not! Now, why did you land so far from the hotel?"  
  
The storefront door they'd landed in front of suddenly slammed shut and a 'CLOSED' sign appeared in the window. "I thought it would be best if you walked in by yourself so nobody would see you with me. You'll have less trouble that way."  
  
Khri scowled. "Less trouble? Piccolo, what are you talking about? If you're worried that the concierge might think I'm a freak and throw me out, don't be. The one thing I've learned is that currency always talks louder than appearance." She took hold of his arm. "Come with me."  
  
"I don't want to go in there!"  
  
"Time to trust _me_." She shot him a knowing grin as she pulled him along the sidewalk. "If what I think is going to happen actually does, this could be a lot of fun. Besides, I need to give you my telephone and room number so Goku and ChiChi can reach me...if you would please play courier just this once."  
  
The Continental Hotel, true to Gohan's recommendation, was definitely upscale. From the moment she entered the lobby with Piccolo, Khri felt herself being either avoided or outright frowned upon. Men and women dressed in expensive clothing and jewelry too flashy to be fake glared at her with obvious disdain, at least until they saw Piccolo. _I don't know how they manage to look down their noses when they have to physically look up to see me,_ Khri wondered. She walked confidently through the glass and marble lobby, past massive gilded urns filled with fresh flowers and to up the front desk.  
  
The short, pale man looked up from his computer and gasped. "May...May I help you?" he asked, his voice squeaking.  
  
"Yes. I would like to rent a room for an indefinite period, please," Khri said in her most gracious, polite voice.  
  
"I'm afraid we're completely booked."  
  
A slightly taller and considerably heavier middle aged man with a razor thin moustache had oozed over to stand beside the nervous clerk. He was the victim of a bad comb-over and an oily voice that reminded Khri of low-level officers vying for her attention during public displays. "There's a convention in town, and all of our rooms have been booked months in advance."  
  
Khri graced him with a broad smile that made the most of all her fangs. "I can appreciate how busy you must be, but why not run my currency codes while your associate looks to see if there's a room available?" She leaned on the desk. "That way I'm not wasting your time."  
  
The greasy man sniffed and looked away from her as he passed the coder over the desk. "If you would kindly input your codes, I'll look to see if there's something available, but I can promise you we're overbooked right now."  
  
Flashing a knowing grin at Piccolo, who was leaning nervously on a nearby marble pillar with his arms folded, Khri picked up the coder and stylus. Several quick taps and her thumbprint seal quickly brought another startled gasp from the clerk. "Um, sir, there's a suite available that the lady might find to her liking, given her currency rating..."  
  
"What?" All traces of annoyance vanished as the concierge looked at the booking computer's screen. The blue glow of flashing numbers made his sudden pallor look even more sickly. "I apologize, miss, I'm afraid I've made a terrible mistake. We do have a suite available, our very finest. In fact, it's the penthouse!"  
  
"Does it have a bathtub?"  
  
"Oh, yes, miss! A large whirlpool tub! The flowers are changed every day and meal delivery is at your convenience! Will you pardon me a moment?" At her nod, the concierge nearly fell over himself and bolted into the back room. He reappeared a moment later, but this time in the lobby and was followed by a cadre of hotel staffers. Piccolo straightened up and glared at them, fists clenched; the staff drew a collective breath in terror and took a step back.  
  
"It's all right," Khri told Piccolo quietly. "They're here to jump for you, if you tell them how high, but please don't torment these people any more than necessary. I'd like to be able to eat something later and guilt ruins my appetite."  
  
Energized by thoughts of renting out the high priced suite and the prospect of really good tips, the concierge himself led Khri and Piccolo through the lobby and down a short hall, trailed by the terrified wait staff. They stopped at a set of gilded elevator doors. "The penthouse suite comes with an excellent view as well as a small, private garden, which the staff takes care of while you're out," he gushed as he inserted his plastic code key into the slot. When the doors opened Khri gently grasped Piccolo's forearm, hoping to give him some small comfort, aware of his nervousness in such close quarters with so many people. He looked down at her with an 'I'm-going-to-kill-you-later" expression. _I just hope he lets me explain before he tries it! _ She stared at the ceiling, deliberately avoiding the eyes of the terrified staff as they crowded together inside the small, stuffy box. The concierge pushed a large, gold button and the car lurched upward. _Oh, Kaio, please don't let the elevator break down!  
_  
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors finally opened into a small but lavish lobby. The concierge used the plastic key to open the huge set of ornate double doors that faced the elevator; they were also the only ones in sight. He extended his arm to allow Khri and Piccolo to go in first.  
  
The concierge might have been a smarmy man but he wasn't a liar. The penthouse's living area was spacious, well-appointed and bright from sunlight that streamed in through the bank of windows. Outside a set of glass doors Khri could make out what had to be the 'private garden.' She found the black and gold decor a bit too ornate for her taste but she couldn't help appreciate the writing desk, the huge glass table and the comfortable looking chairs surrounding it. A black leather sofa and lacquered table squatted a few feet before a large television. A peek into the bedroom revealed king size bed – which would still be too short – but the huge tiled bathroom more than made up for the bed's shortcomings. The penthouse also had a kitchenette with a well stocked refrigerator. A waiter arrived with a wheeled cart bearing a huge covered tray and ice bucket.  
  
"If you need anything, anything at all, please just press the green button on the telephone," the concierge said, handing Khri a gold metal room key. The staff bowed as one, then left the penthouse as quickly as they could while still trying to look gracious.   
  
Khri breathed a sigh of relief and locked the door behind them. She set her pack on the glass table and began to search for Piccolo, who had disappeared inside as soon as the doors had opened. As she passed by the wheeled cart she retrieved two clear bottles of cold water from a bucket full of ice.  
  
She found him in the private garden. It wasn't a garden in the natural sense; small potted trees and bushes had carefully been arranged to resemble one. Large, fragrant flowering shrubs camouflaged the concrete retaining walls, and a creeping vine with trumpeting lilies completely engulfed an arbor. Floating beneath it in the cool shade was Piccolo, arms crossed and legs folded in a meditative position. His eyes were closed so she left him alone, quietly taking a seat for herself on a small padded bench nearby. If the chaotic encounter with the staff had rattled him that badly, she was grateful he was taking the time to calm himself before deciding to kill her. _Thirty years ago he probably would have shredded my kneecaps and more than a few bites out of me. He has definitely grown up._ She opened the cap on her water bottle and took a long, slow drink. When she lowered it, she looked over to find his eyes were open and glaring furiously at her.  
  
"Before you tear my head off and shove it down my throat, I'd like to apologize for that," she said softly, leaving the bench to stand in front of him. "I didn't expect that much fuss or I never would have insisted you come with me. I guess I forgot that Earthers tend to be a little...intolerant...of other species." She offered him the unopened bottle of water.  
  
"Why didn't you just send the damned pests away?" he snapped, baring more fang at her than was tolerable as he resumed a standing position, his fists clenched. Baring fang was still considered an act of aggression; had he forgotten how seriously she took that action?  
  
She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt at let it slide...this once. "I've often found it better to let people do their jobs and not interfere unless absolutely necessary," she said mildly. "If they're not allowed to perform their tasks they get very anxious and end up being more of a nuisance than if you had just let them work in the first place."   
  
Piccolo was doing his very best to intimidate her, from folding his arms on his chest to scowling down at her with an expression so searing it could peel paint. Khri kept her face blank and didn't blink, but inside she had a vision of the rotten little Namekian she worried about for so long. A laugh right now would just make him suspicious, possibly bring up the whole "Junior" discussion all over again and make him even more angry. She gave the proffered bottle of water a small shake.   
  
"Humph," he grunted, finally looking away. "If they had come out here I would have thrown them over the railing." He accepted the water.  
  
"And the concierge would have happily charged me an additional fee to clean up the mess, plus a hefty surcharge if I didn't want the authorities to know about it."   
  
Khri eyed the small bench and thought about asking him to sit with her, but a second glance showed they would have been scrunched too close for comfort. Instead, she walked over to the balcony railing and looked down. The penthouse was on the ninety-second floor and offered a great view of the city; so great, in fact, she wondered if she could see the old stadium from here. She didn't have to wait long for Piccolo join her.  
  
"What do you know about Namekians?" he asked after taking a long drink.  
  
_How much should I tell him?_ Khri continued to stare across the bustling city. _Should I tell him I've been studying them for decades, long before I met him? Or that the survival of his species has me worried?_ "I know a few things," she said, trying not to sound uncertain. "I visited Old Namek a couple of times before it was destroyed. I was very upset to hear about what Freeza did. Great Elder Guru and the Namekians I met in the nearby village were very kind to me."  
  
Piccolo actually gasped. "You met Guru? When was this?"  
  
"Many years ago, before I came to Earth and met you. I was on a special assignment for Eldest, acting as a fast courier." She peered up into his widened eyes. "Remember those 'hunches' we talked about? That assignment was such a curiosity I never forgot it." The trip hadn't lasted more than a day, but once she had given the Great Elder the sealed message her job was done. She took a deep breath as she returned to stare at the city. "I didn't meet many Namekians on that particular visit, but the handful I got to know were incredibly gracious and intelligent. And the little ones were absolutely adorable! They had a lot of questions, most of which I couldn't answer without a long and rather explicit explanation. I ended up doing a lot of blushing. They laughed at me but they were so cute I didn't mind." Khri smiled at the memory of a handful of tiny Nameks trying to entice her into a game of tag. "I haven't been to New Namek yet. Who is their new Great Elder?"  
  
"Muri. Guru passed his knowledge and the power to maintain the Dragonballs to him before he died."  
  
Khri sighed in relief. "I'm glad to hear it. I remember Muri and his attempts to make me laugh." _I just hope he's able to do something about their population problem_, she thought worriedly. _Their numbers were so few then, and Freeza's murderous destruction of the planet hadn't helped at all._  
  
"I'm leaving now," Piccolo suddenly announced. "I'd rather give your number to Gohan when I see him today than take it back to ChiChi. He'll pass it along to her."  
  
She cringed at the memory of the pots-and-pans chorus that had forced her to retreat from the Son house that morning. "Yes, giving it to Gohan will be fine. Let me write it down."  
  
Khri walked back inside, riffled through the desk in the living room and found a packet of hotel stationery. She copied the number off the phone and jotted down her name, placed it in an envelope and returned to the garden. She couldn't help but feel a little regretful he was leaving so soon. "I promise I won't make a habit of asking you to run my errands," she said, handing it to Piccolo.   
  
"I'm going to hold you to it." He turned to leave but she stopped him.  
  
Khri gave him one of her half-smiles. "Piccolo, don't feel you need to come through the lobby next time. I'll keep the door to the garden open."  
  
The tall man stared at her a long moment, then merely raised his hand in farewell. He took off at a speed fast enough to knock over the nearest potted plant.  
  
Staring after the figure until he disappeared into the cloudless afternoon sky, Khri shook her head and righted the abused topiary. "I don't know why I said that, but I hope I have a damn good reason," she told the plant and returned to the suite. She found a cold bottle of tea in the small refrigerator, retrieved her neglected slimpad from her knapsack, made herself comfortable at the glass table and finally got to work.  
  
_To Be Continued..._

* * *

AN: I know these last couple of chapters have been short on action, but I had to slow things down before I rev them back up!  
  
PS: If you hum "The Girl from Imponema" during the elevator scene, you have a good idea of what Piccolo was going through.


	7. Looking Out to See Within

Errant Exile

Chapter 7: _"Looking Out to See Within"_

_"Something has definitely happened..." - Gohan_

Rolling, dark clouds obscured the afternoon sun and promised a showy display of thunderstorms, but they paled in comparison to the tumultuous conditions in Piccolo's mind.

"Damn!" he swore for the hundredth time since leaving Khri at the hotel, hands clenched into fists as he flew towards the Lookout. While he could instantaneously transport by using Dende's chi as an anchor he wanted time to think. He needed to meditate, if only to clear his head and sort out his thoughts, but time and events hadn't provided an opportunity.

Gohan had been right about one thing; talking to Khri about their mutual history sooner rather than later had been very good advice. She had allayed his worst fears in a manner that wasn't insulting or embarrassing. Not only wasn't she angry with him for his terrible behavior as a child, she concocted a plausible yet simple cover story to shield him from uncomfortable questions about his behavior at Goku's house. Khri's compassion and immediate acceptance of him as something other than a monster astonished him. Her angry reaction at the terrified shoppers had thrown him into an uncomfortable quandary. Was she trying to make him feel better by acting as if the humans had been frightened by her, or was she really that naive? Neither answer seemed to fit.

Piccolo snarled in sheer frustration. _She's nothing like Bulma or ChiChi, so how am I supposed to know what to expect from her? She doesn't act like either of them!_ Confrontations with Vegeta and Goku's wives had taught him one thing; avoid them at all costs. Both women were noisy, bossy, domineering and demanding. ChiChi had hated him for years and had only recently come to tolerate his presence less than a hundred miles from her family. Gohan's wife Videl seemed pleasant enough – for a female – but he didn't know her that well. To her credit Khri had yet to raise her voice, and her requests to him had been exactly that, requests asked in a manner that was impeccably polite. Even his challenge to fight had been met with cool logic. His demand had been a hollow one, something he'd concocted to throw her off balance. It hadn't worked. Dammit, that girl wasn't easy to intimidate!

_I need to stop thinking of her as a girl right now,_ Piccolo thought determinedly. There was no way of knowing exactly how old Khri was, but she definitely looked the same as she did three decades ago. Not just Nameks had long natural life spans; Saiyans lived longer than humans and aged more gracefully. There was something about Khri, her eyes, her precise manner of speaking, and the way she carried herself that implied she was old, far older than he wanted to think about. He had found himself relying more on Kami's wisdom than his own in their conversations, especially when it came to the topic of Kaio interference in mortal life. Thinking of her as a "girl" would make him inclined to underestimate her, and that was something he had no intention of doing.

To Piccolo's disgust, neither Nail nor Kami's memories had yielded any information about Khri or her race. His best hope had been with Nail, who had acted as Guru's attendant and protector for several years, but had no memory of her. Nail had been fairly young when he'd persuaded Piccolo into fusing with him, so it was entirely possible that Khri's visit came before his hatching. Kami's memories were just as useless; he'd come to Earth as a child and didn't even know he was Namekian until Vegeta and Nappa had arrived. That also meant the archives in the Temple wouldn't hold any hints or clues. No, his last hope lay with Dende. Now a capable young adult, Dende had been a child when he'd left New Namek to accept the position of Earth's Guardian. Secretly Piccolo doubted Dende would be of much help either, but he had known Guru so there was a chance the Great Elder may have passed along some information before his death.

In the distance, obscured by a curtain of heavy rain, Piccolo could make out Master Karin's tower. Cold water droplets pummeled him from all sides as he shot up, past the old cat's sanctuary, plowing through the lightning-laced clouds. The sky brightened quickly and he broke through the cloud deck into an endless sea of brilliant blue and warm sun.

Cracked and worn with age, the Lookout's white tile sides and the golden domed roof of the Temple glared in the sunlight. Piccolo used a small bit of chi to dry his clothing as he cleared the side. He set down halfway between the twin lines of palm trees.

Dende was already waiting for him, his ever-present shadow, Mr. Popo, at his side. "Piccolo, I'm glad you came," the younger Namekian said quietly as he walked up. "I was going to wait until tomorrow and then ask you to come here if I hadn't heard from you."

Piccolo looked down at him. _What does he know already?_ "Why?" he asked bluntly.

"I saw two streaks of light in the sky last night, one behind the other and both headed East. I know they weren't meteorites." Dende was visibly nervous. "At first I was afraid it was more Saiyans hunting for Goku or Vegeta, but I haven't been able to sense any chi." He almost smiled. "Earth doesn't have a good record of attracting friendly visitors."

"You can stop worrying, Dende," Piccolo said quietly. "It wasn't Saiyans. We do have a visitor though."

"Wh...what? Piccolo, who is it? What do you know you aren't telling me?" Dende's nervousness disappeared and was replaced by determination. Mr. Popo's gaze traveled worriedly between the Guardian and the fighter.

"Have you ever heard of a race called the Leonids?"

Dende's expression changed to one of surprise, then deep thought. "Leonids? I don't think so...have you, Mr. Popo?"

The genie shook his head. "No, Kami-Sama. No Kami of old ever spoke of it."

Desperate for even the smallest bit of information, Piccolo prompted, "what about Great Elder Guru? Did he mention them?" He sighed. "I know for a fact that Nail never heard of them, let alone met one. Kami's memories are just as worthless."

"Guru never did, but...Muri!" Dende's eyes widened as he met Piccolo's gaze. "He mentioned them! It was the day Freeza came." He wilted a bit at that awful memory. "When Freeza's ships first appeared in the sky Scargo and I were with Muri, working in the gardens. Muri looked up and asked, 'have the Leonids returned?,' and he certainly didn't sound upset by the idea. In fact he seemed a little excited, even happy...until we found out who our visitors really were. I'd completely forgotten about it after that."

Piccolo snorted, but not in anger or irritation. Dende's forgetfulness of such small details was understandable in light of the violence of that day. If his description of Muri's reaction was correct, then the new Great Elder might have a lot to tell them. He must have had a reason to be happy at the idea of a visit from Leonids. "Dende, I'd like you to contact Muri and find out what he knows. Ask him if he remembers a Leonid named Khri."

Dende frowned slightly. "Piccolo, you seem to know an awful lot about what's going on. I would appreciate it if you would tell me what you know."

"I know quite a bit, but I'd like your opinion before I give you mine. Are you up for a guest?"

The Guardian smiled. "Of course! It does get a little lonely up here – no offense, Mr. Popo! – and its been a while since Bulma's last party. Do you really think he'll come if you asked? You don't mind bringing him up here?"

Piccolo couldn't hide a small half-grin. "Khri is female."

"Female!" Dende gasped. He began walking towards the Temple, shaking his head. "I'd never met a female or even knew what they were until I met Bulma on Old Namek. I never thought I'd meet others, but then I came to Earth."

"Khri is nothing like the females you've already met, and as much as I've been ferrying her around I'm damned grateful." She had been a wonderfully silent, uncomplaining and cooperative traveling companion...not that he'd want her flying with him on a regular basis. "She's a warrior, Dende." _I have to be careful what I say. Dende doesn't need to know our 'history.'_ He gave the Guardian a short version of what had happened the night before, from the crash to Khri's fight with the Telkarri to Vegeta's interference, making sure he left his own feelings and thoughts out of the tale. He also gave a brief description of 'blackfire' which left Dende stumped.

"I've never heard of such a thing! I didn't know there was an opposite of chi!" His face fell in disappointment. "But there's a lot of things I've never heard of..."

Piccolo went so far as to place a reassuring hand on the younger Namek's shoulder. "Could there be anything in the archives? Maybe the information is so old its been there all along, just forgotten."

The suggestion seemed to cheer him a little. "I'll look this afternoon. If I find anything, I will let you know. I'll ask Muri about it, too when I contact him." He left Piccolo behind as he entered the shadows of the Temple's pavilion, but he could be heard muttering, "I wonder if Khri knows how to play poker? We'd only need one more hand since Piccolo won't play...when will you be bringing her here?"

"As soon as she'll agree to it. I have a feeling it won't be long."

Piccolo watched as Dende retreated, Mr. Popo dutifully trailing along behind him. Long ago he'd come to the conclusion that Dende had something in common with Gohan; both were scholars at heart. The young Guardian would bury himself in the archives until he found what he was looking for, or thirst or other needs drove him out. Satisfied that the Lookout's resources were being put to good use, Piccolo remembered the small envelope he'd tucked into his belt. Khri hadn't bothered to seal it so he shook out the paper and took a close look. Written in neat, block handwriting was her name and a telephone number, which he promptly memorized. Khri had rented the penthouse for an indefinite period of time so he wasn't certain the number was of lasting value, but he didn't think she would object to him having it. He refolded the stationery, tucked it back into the envelope and then back into his belt. _I guess its time to play delivery boy, he sighed irritably_, launching himself back into the sky and the clouds far below.

* * *

"Mama! Where's my new gi? I want to show Daddy!"

Setting his briefcase by the front door, Gohan grinned as Pan's piping voice echoed down the stairway, followed by her hurried footsteps. "Daddy, Mama and Grandma and I went shopping today! I got a new gi!" She hugged him tightly, almost jumping on his feet with excitement.

Videl appeared from the kitchen, a tired but welcoming smile on her face. "What she won't tell you is that I got her a few new school clothes and shoes, and that she was an absolute terror at lunch. All she wanted to do was go to the martial arts supply store for the gi. Your mother promised to buy her one if she finished her lunch and even that bribe almost wasn't enough."

"You were a terror, Pan?" Gohan tousled her thick, black hair and she giggled. "I would never have imagined it!"

"Here's the gi, Pan," Videl said, handing her a small shopping bag. "Why don't you go try it on while I talk to your Daddy for a few minutes?"

Gohan waited until Pan had danced back upstairs with her prize before he asked Videl, "did Piccolo's friend Khri go with you? It doesn't sound like it."

Videl winced, pushing her hair over her shoulder. "Your mother was furious with Piccolo! She accused him of 'kidnapping' Khri this morning before she could ask!"

"What?" Gohan stared at her in shock. "I know Piccolo was nervous about confronting her, but I can't believe he'd resort to such a thing as kidnapping!"

"I don't think the story is exactly how ChiChi would like us to believe," Videl replied, a sly look on her face. "She'd been fighting with Goku because he was leaving to resume training with Uub. When she started throwing the cookware Khri snuck out the door. Piccolo had spent the night outside their house and was probably still there this morning when Khri left. ChiChi, of course, is blaming Piccolo for taking off with her houseguest."

Gohan visibly relaxed. "So, given Mom's mood, the 'kidnapping' was probably voluntary." He chuckled. "Who knows? Maybe she did Piccolo a favor after all. Maybe he's talked with Khri and everything has worked out. I know I haven't heard from him since late last night." He felt a twinge of guilt; he'd told Videl about his conversation with Piccolo. He felt a little like he'd betrayed his friend's confidence, but he wanted a feminine opinion and Videl's was usually very trustworthy. "Piccolo hasn't shown up here, has he?"

"I was out the rest of the afternoon after we left Pan's recital and you went back to work," she said. "I haven't been home long. I do have dinner in the works, though." She kissed him, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Removing his jacket, Gohan sighed as he went to the bedroom to change his clothes. There was a time not too many years ago when he couldn't have imagined such a tranquil life. Buu, in one form or another, was on a murdering rampage that nothing seemed to slow down. Memories of those days made his life with his family that much more precious to him except for one continuing regret; his lack of time with Piccolo.

The last thing Gohan wanted to do was neglect his teacher, idol and friend, but life and responsibility had made available time to spend with the big green warrior more and more scarce. They would spar now and then, for old time's sake, but Gohan felt his real fighting days were long over. Even at the age of four he'd known he didn't want to be a fighter but the arrival of Raditz had changed all that. Piccolo hadn't bothered to take on another student and, according to Dende, had been spending more and more time alone. Gohan wasn't worried that Piccolo, left to himself, would regress back into his old, evil ways or revive his goal of conquering the world. He just hated to see the Namekian drift away into a half-life of self-imposed solitude or, even worse, feel he wasn't wanted or needed anymore. _But I don't know what I can do about it! He doesn't take suggestions well and if I ask him too many personal questions he gets angry!_

Now wearing jeans and a comfortable old tee shirt, Gohan headed for the kitchen when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" he shouted to Videl and changed course. "I wouldn't be surprised if it's Goten, afraid to go home for dinner if Mom is still angry."

The visitor wasn't Goten. Towering over the threshold was the subject of Gohan's worry, which he quickly threw aside in favor of a huge smile. "Piccolo! I'm glad to see you!" he said with total honesty, grabbing the Namekian by the wrist and pulling him inside. "I was hoping you would show up!" he said as he purposefully shut the door.

Instead of looking at him skeptically, Piccolo actually smiled. "I've got something for you to pass along to ChiChi." He pulled a small, white envelope from his belt and handed it over. "It's Khri's telephone number at the Continental. I don't know how long she will be staying there, but she'll probably let me know if there's a change."

Gohan couldn't help quirk an eyebrow as he opened the envelope. _She'll let him know? Now this is interesting!_ He hid a grin behind a cough and nodded. "The Continental, eh? I'll be sure to call Mom with the number tonight. Maybe I'll get lucky and Goten will answer the phone." He glanced back at the kitchen, listening for the sounds of dishes clattering. "Videl told me Mom is furious that you 'kidnapped' her house guest," he said quietly. "I take it you were able to have a talk with Khri and got things worked out?"

Piccolo snorted at the 'kidnapping' allegation. "I took your advice. You were right. Khri is...well...I don't know what she is yet. I haven't made up my mind." He assumed the posture Gohan always interpreted as 'this is the end of the discussion.' He assumed that one a _lot_.

Videl's face suddenly peered around the corner. "Piccolo, I thought I heard your voice! You'll stay for dinner, won't you? I know you drink tea on occasion but we've got water if you'd prefer that."

"Yay! Mr. Piccolo!" Pan's footsteps thundered down the stairs again. She now wore an orange gi that looked suspiciously familiar even without the turtle badge. "You're going to stay, right Mr. Piccolo?"

Piccolo stared down at the little girl who barely reached his knees. Gohan watched him a moment and noticed his attention seemed to be far away, as if he were seeing a memory. Finally the tall man smiled and, like Pan's father had earlier, ruffled her hair. "Sure, kid. Just for a little while."

_Something has definitely happened between now and last night,_ Gohan thought. _I have got to meet Khri and find out what it is..._

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

AN: Yes, I know, another slow chapter! There's a faster one coming soon, I promise...

I really hate the lack of a paragraph indent! AARRARGH, it makes reading harder.

Reader Thank You's: To all of you who are sticking with me through this, especially Ace of Authors! All the great comments give me just the boost I need to keep this going!


	8. Shadows and Doubts

A/N: WARNING! If you're squeamish, take precautions.

* * *

Errant Exile

Chapter 8: _"Shadows and Doubts"_

Late day sunlight had been reflecting off the glass table for over an hour, but it didn't catch Khri's attention until it sparked off one of the chrome supports underneath. She rubbed the glare from her eyes and stood up for a long overdue, muscle-loosening stretch.

'...Tomorrow's weather forecast calls for thunderstorms if you're traveling north and west. Downtown shoppers in Satan City, however, will find sunny skies and mild temperatures...'

The television continued to drone in the background. Just a few hours had provided a wealth of information, some of it useful, most of it social and some just plain annoying, especially the nonstop advertisements. Every few minutes the volume would rise to announce a sale on aircars, bank loans, electronics, take away food deals and the latest shoe sales. Much to Khri's chagrin, clothing styles for females consisted mostly of very skimpy outfits that showed a lot of leg, breast, midriff or all of the above. _Not good for a Leonid...I'm going to look very awkward in a sweater._ In the space of a few hours she'd tapped into Earth's computer grids, ordered some clothing from a tall women's shop hopefully to be delivered by tomorrow sent her spare suit out for cleaning, sampled some of the food from the tray, and made a morning appointment with a local real estate broker. She had expected to get a telephone call from ChiChi, but as the hours passed Khri assumed that Piccolo either hadn't had time to give her number to Gohan, or Gohan had been too busy to call his mother. Either way she wasn't offended.

An afternoon spent with no interruptions had been most productive. She'd gone through all her messages nothing from Eldest, but no surprise there and smiled fondly at Sai's attempts at humor. 'The first thing Ahtai did was order a reformulation of the combat ration bars,' he'd written. 'Apparently he likes them as well as you do.' Khri laughed softly; she'd tried that already, many years ago. Green Commanders always called for 'new and improved' rations, and the new formulations always tasted more like cardboard than the old version.

Khri leaned back in her chair and stared hard at the holo display. _Now, my friend, how do I tell you the story of my hardships in exile? 'I'm staying in a luxury hotel with trays of food delivered to my door and a big whirlpool bathtub, I'm about to see if I can outspend the Clan bank accounts and oh, by the way, did I mention I found Junior?'_ Her promise to Piccolo didn't extend to keeping the story from Sai. Not only had her Second had been there on that day, he was the culprit who'd suggested that Khri give a misbehaving "Junior" a swat on his rotten little behind! Disclosing most of what she'd discussed with Piccolo about Kaio interference was out of the question though, and it wasn't necessary. She glanced up at the gaudy wall clock, performed a quick time conversion in her head, and realized that Sai had just gone off duty. He _should_ be in the officer's lounge on the _Aughenai_, but would he stick to his old routine now that he was acting Second to Ahtai? She used the stylus to open a secure channel and waited.

There was a brief burst of static, then a familiar face appeared, colored an artificial blue by the slimpad's small holo display. "Battle Commander? Khri, is that you?"

Grinning, Khri leaned back in her chair. "How are you, old friend?"

"Fine, but Commander, how are you? I keep getting all these covert requests from those who respect you, wanting to know if I've heard from you! Your replies don't give me enough information to satisfy them!"

Sai looked more tense than relieved. It wasn't an immediate cause for worry...or was it? "Sai, I'm just fine. I'm staying in a very nice hotel until I can find a house, which should be some time tomorrow. I've already met Son Goku and his wife, plus a handful of their friends. My landing was a little rough but so far my assignment has been progressing very well." _I can tell him about Piccolo later._ "Sai, how are things aboard the _Aughenai_? And have you heard from Home?"

There were dark circles under her Second's eyes that couldn't be blamed on poor transmission quality or distortion from the blue lighting. "Saying too much would be risky," he said quietly, jaw set. "I don't have any solid information, Battle Commander, but rumors from Home say things between our Clan and the Tigradi are heating up. Soshi in Surveillance tells me that there's been a major upheaval in the Council, and now rulings are leaning more in favor towards the Tigradi. So far our supply lines seem to be holding steady, but central depot is now under their control. We're watching for interference and I've got teams doing double checks on all incoming ordinance, but it still might not be enough."

Khri blanched. "It's that bad? That might be why I haven't heard from Eldest. If he's busy dealing with this mess, he doesn't have time to deal with my petty problems and complaints."

"Oh yes he does."

She blinked. "What?"

Sai's grin was bitter. "As soon as you've settled into permanent housing, a tech team will be coming down to set up a computer. A big one. The orders come from Eldest himself."

Khri crossed her arms, keeping her face still even though she could feel the blood leaving her cheeks. "A big computer. Why would Eldest order such a thing installed here, of all places, and not tell me?" The itch on the back of her neck flared up suddenly. Was Eldest depending on Sai to tell her in secret rather than send a note himself? "I don't know whether to be curious, worried or both. What's the processor ability and memory capacity on that thing?"

Sai shook his head. "I don't know yet. All I know is that the tech team has been working on it nonstop since you left the _Aughenai_, and under very tight security. Apparently they got the orders before I did."

Sai's resources were good, sometimes too good. That he hadn't known about it bothered Khri intensely. "Does Ahtai know about this?"

"I can't be sure. He's been preoccupied with trying to learn the protocols as well as you knew them. He'd be better off developing his own systems, but he hasn't given me the freedom to tell him that. As for the crew, everyone's nerves are on edge. I'm sure the tension from Home is adding to the stress; even the Fleet Commander seems affected by it. If Commander Ahtai knows about the tech team's project he hasn't given any hints to me."

Khri gave her head a little shake. "The timing is all wrong, Sai. First I'm exiled here and given cryptic orders, and now Clan tensions are coming to an all-time high. What's the status on the Telkarri? Any uprisings?"

"There's some good news I can report," he said. "It looks like we've finally got them contained to their home system. There are a couple of outposts left on the outskirts of the sector which is where the ship you brought down came from and we should have those completely wiped out within days. The Council is considering a final assault on their home system to put an end to the threat. The Heroni Clan will get that assignment if its approved."

"Heroni? That Clan is so small they're barely genetically solvent! Do they have the resources to do it?"

Sai thought for a moment. "If they play it smart, yes. We could finally be rid of the Telkarri." His scowl got deeper. "But sending you to Earth is not my idea of playing it smart."

If the ever-patient Sai was this twitchy, Khri could only imagine the tension the rest of the _Aughenai_ crew had to be feeling. She did agree with Sai that now was not a good time for the ship to be breaking in a new Battle Commander. "Sai, Ahtai knows you're acting as my eyes and ears on the _Aughenai_, doesn't he?"

"I've been open with him, Battle Commander, but he's gracious enough not to ask too much."

Khri ground her teeth together. The last thing she wanted to do was put Sai in an uncomfortable situation so she decided to change tactics and see if she could cheer him up a little. A half-grin crept its way onto her face. "Sai, I've found Junior." The grin became a whole one when Sai's jaw dropped and his eyes bulged.

"Commander? Khri, are you joking...no, strike that. How did you find him so quickly? How is he?"

"To be honest he found me, apparently by complete accident. Let's just say that little rotter has changed. A lot. He recognized me right away, but there's no possible way I could have identified him under the circumstances. He's...ahem....grown." Khri felt her cheeks start to burn. What was this? _Just because Piccolo could probably turn every female head on the _Aughenai_ doesn't give me an excuse!_ She was glad that Sai's own holo display gave her visage the same, sickly blue color hers did. "I'll tell you the entire story soon " She glanced back at the clock. "Sai, I need to break off. Its nothing urgent; the sun is about to set so I'll lose transmission quality. You can reach me by missive if you need to. Check?"

Sai inclined his head respectfully. "Check, Battle Commander. Good luck, and please stay in touch."

"Good night, old friend."

Khri let the blue image dissolve, then powered down the slimpad. Rays of sunlight faded from the glass table, abruptly darkening the room, but outside the windows the city began to glow on its own. After another long stretch she walked through the living area and stepped out onto the balcony. She leaned on the railing and took in the view.

Visits to many worlds over the years had taught Khri one thing; from a distance, nearly every industrialized city looked like every other one regardless of the technology level. Lights from neighboring skyscrapers winked in and out, angry honks from aircars drifted up from the streets below, and the air had a familiar tang of dust, restaurant exhaust and other smells she never could identify. The stars were always obscured by light pollution, even more so if the planet had a moon. Tonight Earth's moon was full, adding its silver light to the neon glow of Satan City.

An unexpected twinge of homesickness made Khri close her eyes. The Leonid High Clan enclave was always a welcome sight, especially if all her older siblings were off on their own errands, minding their own business rather than trying to dictate hers. She remembered the nights she spent walking alone in the gardens under the light of Home's six moons, listening to the chirps and hums of night creatures and breathing in the scents of rich plant life. She opened her eyes and returned to the present, pushing aside the dull ache that tried to tighten her throat. It had been years since she'd been Home and it could be many more before she could return, so it was pointless to feel sentimental about it now. Khri left the railing and was headed back inside when she felt it.

Something shoved at her latent blackfire shielding.

_Diacha_ immediately in her hand, Khri crouched low amid the potted plants. She looked up to see if anyone was was lurking on the penthouse roof, since getting to the balcony by scaling the hotel's glass windows without being seen was a near impossibility. She'd been at the table working all afternoon, had admitted no one, and there was no way for anyone to conceal themselves in the phony little garden when the concierge had given her the tour. Khri held her breath and waited to see if it would happen again. The shove had been deliberate and completely unlike the one that had brushed against her shield late last night. That touch had been gentle and inquisitive, but it had been assertive enough to partially wake her. She'd completely forgotten about it until now and hissed a curse at herself for the mistake. Was the same person the cause?

Khri stood back up and looked over the city again. If an enemy was perched outside one of the neighboring skyscrapers she was now an open target. She probed carefully with a well-practiced light touch, searching for any sense of threatening blackfire or the sudden raising of a secondary, intentional shield. Holding her breath, hearing nothing but the sounds of city night life, Khri left herself open but felt nothing aimed in her direction. Snorting in disgust at either an imaginary assailant or a real coward, she marched back into the penthouse.

It was only after she'd closed the drapes that she put away her _diacha_.

* * *

The real estate broker, Tia, hadn't exaggerated when she'd described the house to Khri.

"This one has been vacant for nearly three months now," the older woman remarked as she brought her spacious aircar to a stop in the circular driveway. "I've shown it once before, and I can assure you the house and property are being well maintained by a caretaker. It's a gorgeous house and the beach front view is spectacular, but I'm afraid the remote location has made potential buyers scarce."

Early morning sunshine trickling down through the trees that nearly concealed the front of the house formed a lattice of light on the cobblestone walkway. Khri followed Tia up the front steps, taking in the tropical scents from nearby flowers and the fresh ocean air. At first she had been reluctant to consider such a large house but found herself intrigued after Tia had read the description to her over the phone. She waited patiently as the agent entered the codes on the lock, then followed her through the double oak doors.

The large foyer, decorated in green tile and trimmed out with warm, varnished woods, set the tone for the entire house. The kitchen was freshly painted, had lots of cabinet space and the most ominous looking refrigerator Khri had ever seen. All of the bedrooms had polished wooden floors and great views, especially the three which faced the ocean. The master bedroom had its own set of glass doors out to a private patio, and the attached bathroom was spacious and outfitted with a big, jetted tub. She was pleased to find an office off to one side of the house and large workout room attached to the garage. _Just the thing to combat rich Earth food!_ Her favorite place, though, had to be the living room. It was spacious but comforting at the same time, and the fireplace could provide extra heat if she wanted. A huge bank of tall windows and glass doors overlooked the stone patio that stepped into a small, grassy yard. Mature trees provided a natural tunnel that led down to the visible sandy beach.

"There are several pieces of furniture that stay with the house," Tia explained, her high heels clicking on the wooden floor in the hall. "The small sofa, chair and matching ottoman in the living room, a floor lamp, the bureau in the small bedroom, and the table and chairs in the dining room. They were designed to match this house, and the owners felt they didn't match the decor in their new home."

Khri loved the house. _It's a security nightmare with all that open glass facing the ocean, but I think that can be resolved. I'll have to check with the techs on the _Aughenai_ to see what they can do to make this place less vulnerable._ She folded her arms and purposefully towered over Tia. "I will pay the seller's asking price in a direct credit transfer to an account of their choice. If you can finalize the paperwork by tonight, I will also add a percentage point to your commission."

The broker stared at her in surprise. Hands trembling, she immediately began digging through her purse for her phone.

Several hours later Khri was back at the Satan City Continental Hotel, repacking her now bulging knapsack to include the new clothes that had arrived earlier that day. She still wore her undress blacks and insulated jacket, not wanting to spare the time to change.

One of the things she'd obtained at the front desk was a map that included not just Satan City, but the surrounding countryside for several hundred miles. She circled the general location of the house, refolded the map and placed it inside a large envelope, also obtained from the concierge. She added a picture of the house with the street address on the back, then wrote a quick note to Piccolo saying, "this is my new home. Please don't be a stranger. Khri." She inked his name on the outside of the envelope and stuck it to the outside of the balcony doors with tape. _I just hope he sees this before the either the hotel staff or the next guests do!_ She grabbed a bottle of water and a piece of fruit from the most recent food tray, shouldered her knapsack and left the penthouse for the final time. By the time she had checked out and praised the smarmy little concierge for excellent service during her stay, her cab had arrived. Khri settled into the back seat, gave the driver her new address, and closed her eyes for a long nap.

* * *

The cost of the place had been staggering, not including the additional percentage Khri had bribed the real estate agent with to close the sale quickly. It was worth every zeni just to feel the metal key warming in her pocket next to her _diacha_. The first of the evening's crickets chirped in the bushes as she opened the front doors her front doors and stepped into her foyer. _Eldest is going to have a seizure when he sees what I spent_, she mused, not feeling the least bit guilty. She had quickly fulfilled the parameters of her assignment to this point, and the office on side of the house would comfortably house any computer the tech team brought down. Unfortunately, she couldn't bribe the utility companies, so the telephone wouldn't be connected for a few days. _I hope Piccolo got the note and map I left for him. I'd hate for him to have to resort to going inside the hotel to ask the concierge for my forwarding address!_

Khri walked into the kitchen and set her grocery bags and knapsack down on the counter. The grocer in the nearby village had more than hinted he'd be happy to provide her with home delivery whenever she wanted it. The news that the big house on the ocean had been purchased had raced through the tiny town like wildfire. The grocer added that his son ran a small restaurant that also delivered, was a great chef, and would also be happy to open an account for her. Khri let him help her pick out an assortment of foodstuffs and offered to carry them to her waiting cab. Included in her purchases was a six-pack of bottled water, which would require her to open the refrigerator if she wanted them cold.

_Why am I so intimidated by a damned appliance?_ Khri wondered, staring up at the stainless steel behemoth that dominated the kitchen. She pulled open the door and was surprised to find it wasn't empty; several dark brown bottles of liquid had been stuffed in the back on the top shelf. She left it there for now, promising to satisfy her curiosity later. The freezer housed a hopper full of stale ice which she emptied in the sink, and the ice maker went back to work. Most of her purchases consisted of frozen meals she could heat in the microwave. Sai had banished her from the kitchen in her quarters on the _Aughenai_. "Safety reasons," he'd said, after the one time she'd tried to make dinner was a total disaster and she'd set off the smoke sensors. She stocked the refrigerator, took a bottle of cold tea for herself and walked back to the living room.

The only problem left was the lack of furniture. The custom pieces the previous owners had left with the house hadn't included a bed, but she could sleep on the sofa for a while if she curled up tight and didn't mind her feet dangling off the end. A large, wooden chair with leather upholstery and a matching footstool sat in front of the fireplace but faced the windows, a tall lamp loomed in a dark corner, and a massive oak table with matching chairs sat in the dining room. Khri stood for a moment in front of the glass doors, staring out into the evening sky. Stars winked to life above the horizon as the last rays of sunlight turned the white capped waves a glowing dark violet. She sighed in contentment and took a long drink of tea. The house had several critical security flaws, but the spacious feel and the view of the ocean were worth the risk. She raised the bottle to her lips again and froze

There was movement outside.

A repetitive popping noise gave her a less than a second in warning. Khri dropped the tea, spun around and made a dive for the floor, throwing her arm over her face. The earsplitting sound of shattering glass and the staccato of a projectile weapon being fired was almost enough to distract her from the intense pain searing through her left side. Keeping her head down, Khri managed to crawl behind the chair. The movement came at a price; it ground the shards of glass peppering her body deeper into her wounds. Her breathing came in small huffs as she reached into her jacket for her _diacha_; both her hand and weapon came away covered with blood. Khri buried her face in her arms when the assassin began firing another round. Bullets struck the heavy chair, shredding the upholstery but not passing through the thick wood. When the shooting stopped for a moment Khri reached down and probed her ribcage, ignoring the pain and blood to focus on locating the damage. _Four shattered ribs...some organ damage...internal bleeding...at least four bullets...three in my kidney, the other my lung...dammit!_

Using the lull, however brief it might be, Khri gritted her teeth and forced herself to concentrate. Slowly, carefully, she mentally coaxed the largest broken blood vessel to seal itself and managed to stop the worst internal bleeding. The bullets in her kidney would have to come out and would do more damage on the way, but she was glad her would-be assassin hadn't used exploding shells. The one lodged in her lung was making breathing increasingly difficult and would have to come out now! Taking as deep a breath as the pain would allow, Khri focused on the lump of cooling metal buried in her chest. Fangs bared in agony she guided the bullet out, feeling a fresh gush of blood between her fingers. It traveled slowly between shards of shattered bone, finally exiting out the same wound. Khri tossed it aside, distantly hearing it tinkle as it hit the broken glass on the floor, and hurried to knit shut the torn vessels and repair the worst of the damaged bone. _Time...time...how much time...before he comes looking for me...and makes sure I'm dead?_ Panting, Khri clenched her slippery hand into a fist. She knew she needed to wait until the last possible minute to power up a blackfire blast, but her weakening body wouldn't be able to summon enough power for a lethal one if she waited much longer. Then she noticed a slight burning at the base of her skull. Her lifesign implant was going off! The sudden blood loss must have triggered it, not to mention the unexpected intrusion of metal into her body. How long the strike team would take to land she couldn't guess, but until they did she was on her own. Why hadn't the bastard come for her yet? Cut glass bit deeper as she struggled to her knees, one hand pressed against her still oozing side, the other clutched tightly around her _diacha_.

"Khri!"

Through the haze of pain and blood loss she thought she heard a familiar voice. She tensed and waited, _diacha_ still dark. "Khri, where are you?" the voice roared again, this time nearer. Footsteps crunched over the broken glass covering the floor.

"Pih...Piccolo? Down...here."

Khri blinked as a sharp green face appeared in front of her. Piccolo's eyes were huge and round, and she didn't need to interpret his expression to know how bad she looked. He reached for her but pulled his hands back at the last moment. "Khri? I've got to get you to Dende...you need help!"

"No...I'll be...all right," she gasped. _Dende? Who's Dende?_ "It's...not that bad. A team...from my ship...is on its way.." She had to pause; the effort of talking had started fresh bleeding in her lung. "I need...you to do...something..."

"What? Dammit, Khri, is there an inch of you that's not bleeding? You need to see Dende now!"

"Quiet!" Khri knew she was baring fang but didn't care. She used his shocked silence to seal up the newest rupture, suppressing the urge to cough. Frustration was warring with a deep, seething anger and she lowered her head, her voice a liquid-filled growl. "If you...want to help...go find...the son of a bitch...that shot me. I want him...alive."

* * *

AN: I tried to move this chapter along as fast as I could without glossing over details that will be important later. I'll do my best to get the next chapter, _"The Bitter Part of Valor,"_ posted before login and loading at FanFiction-dot-net goes down on August 17-18th.

As to the description of Khri's house, think Frank Lloyd Wright!


	9. The Bitter Part of Valor

Errant Exile

Chapter 9: _"The Bitter Part of Valor"_

A/N: This is a BIG chapter! It was a struggle in the brain pan that even cream of mushroom soup couldn't calm down (joke borrowed from Brett Butler). Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_"If you...want to help...go find...the son of a bitch...that shot me. I want him...alive."_ - Khri 

Piccolo crouched low in front of Khri, his sharp eyes taking in the extent of Khri's injuries. Glass shards had sliced through her clothing and embedded themselves in her arms and legs, leaving too many bleeding wounds to count. A nasty gash sliced across her right cheekbone, marring her pretty face, and a pool of amber blood was forming on the floor beside her left leg. "Just...just go!" she rasped, her eyes full of pain as she clutched her side, dropping her weapon. "Help is...on the way. "

Gritting his teeth, Piccolo gave a curt nod and instantly left the room and house behind.

Speed had always been one of his strong points, a fact for which he was grateful as he came to a halt and hovered over the beach. It had only been a handful of minutes since he'd heard the gunshots so the shooter couldn't have gotten very far on foot, and there were no signs or sounds of other vehicles on either the land or the water.

The weather and the waves were both calm that evening. The gentle background noise of the surf didn't impair Piccolo's acute hearing in the least as he listened for signs of the intruder.

For the second time that day he cursed Khri's lack of chi. It made finding her difficult after she'd checked out of the hotel, even with the map and photograph she'd taped to the balcony window. Now his inability to sense her life signs had made it impossible to know how badly she was injured. _If she dies while I'm out here, she's really going to piss me off,_ he growled to himself as he searched the shoreline.

Earlier Piccolo had been flying slowly along the beach, enjoying the sea breezes while searching for Khri's house, when he'd heard the gunshots. There was no mistaking the sounds of semi-automatic gunfire; the Royal Army had attacked Cell with similar weapons while Piccolo had been in the android's clutches. When he heard glass shatter his gut had twisted, somehow knowing who was in danger. He tracked the noise to Khri's house, but by the time he landed the shooter was nowhere to be seen. He had, however, conveniently left footprints and a trail. Light from Khri's living room reflected off spent shell casings that lay strewn across the beach. When Piccolo finally reached her he had hoped to find her still alive, but had been unprepared to find her so badly hurt. The memory rekindled his anger. _Damn! I should've just told her to shut up and transported her to the Lookout! She could be dead by now, for all I know..._

He frowned when he noticed a glow seeping up from the ocean beneath his feet. The waxing moon gave the surf a silver cast but just offshore in the deeper water, far beneath the surface, a blue-green light emanated up through the depths. At first he wondered if the underwater plant life in the area could be responsible for the eerie glow, but as he pulled back he could see the light was contained to two nearly perfect circles. _Sneaky bastards,_he thought, throwing off his turban and weighted cloak. He took a deep breath and plunged into the waves.

Piccolo used just enough chi to propel himself downward faster than he could swim, past flittering schools of tropical fish and long streamers of seaweed. Namekians were natural swimmers and could hold their breath for nearly a quarter of an hour, so he took the time to approach the artificial lights cautiously. His hearing was impaired under water and the buildup of pressure against his eardrums was bordering on painful, but beneath the natural roar of the ocean he thought he could make out a steady mechanical thrum. The lights slowly brightened and sharpened as he drew closer, then finally revealed themselves to be the blazing exhaust from two idling engines.

Huddled on the ocean floor, partially camouflaged by a bed of large boulders and coral, was what could only be a spaceship. Small yellow lights flickered along the sides and thin streams of bubbles boiled out from beneath its landing gear. A shadow passed between Piccolo and the light of the engines, taking the shape of swimmer and the outlines of scuba gear. From one hand dangled what looked like a harpoon gun, loaded and ready to fire.

Piccolo came to a stop and used a bit more chi to keep himself from floating upward, then focused his senses on the swimmer. Like Khri, the assassin had absolutely no chi signature. _The cowardly son of a bitch is one of her own people! _He put two fingers to his forehead, letting his rage grow._ This would be so much easier if she didn't want him alive,_ he growled to himself.

Fish scattered as two shafts of light, one spiraling around the other, shot through the water and struck the submerged spacecraft. The surrounding ocean lit up as the ship exploded with the intensity of a small sun, sending a billowing cloud of rock and debris swirling outward. Thanks to his chi shield Piccolo was able to hold himself steady, but the shock wave sent the swimming assassin tumbling backward and upward into darkness. Cursing silently, Piccolo sped off after him, right fist tight and glowing with a low powered chi blast ready and waiting.

Through the cloudy water he saw movement that could only be his target. He lowered his chi shield and was about to fire when pain burned through the muscle of his upper left arm. It hadn't been an energy attack, or "blackfire" as Khri called it; he'd seen the short, barbed harpoon right before it grazed him. It was attached to a tether which Piccolo grabbed, wrapped it once around his hand, then used the tension in the line to snap the weapon out of the assassin's grip. Barely containing his fury, Piccolo brought up his right fist and let the chi blast fly. It hit the attacker in the center of his chest, hard enough to stun him without inflicting serious injury. _Damn! Now I don't have an excuse to kill him._

Feeling his lungs begin to burn for want of fresh air, Piccolo ignored his injured arm and propelled himself towards the assassin. He grabbed him by the back the neck and ripped the scuba mask from his face. A pair of unfocused green eyes glowed back at him. He slammed the side of his hand down on the back of the man's neck, knocking him out. The residual glow from the destroyed ship faded away as Piccolo hauled his captive towards the surface, where the light of the moon sparkled through the warmer water. He broke through the waves and shot into the sky, finally free to take deep breaths of clean, fresh air.

It took only a moment for Piccolo to get his bearings, especially since new lights pierced through the trees surrounding Khri's house. "She'd better still be alive after all the trouble she's caused me," he muttered, trying to ignore the feelings of worry hammering at his resolve. His sopping wet gi made the mild night air feel cold as he retraced his flight.

Just before he reached the shore a blinding light flashed in his face. He threw up an arm to shield his eyes, straining to see beyond the glare. "Pull that light! It's the Namek!" a voice on the beach shouted. The light disappeared instantly, and Piccolo had to blink several times to clear the spots from his vision. "I have had just about enough of this," he rumbled as he set down, his wet shoes sinking into the soft sand.

Four figures in black armor rushed to meet him, their faces hidden behind masks and eye shields. They appeared unarmed but Piccolo knew better. "I have a little 'gift' for Khri," he said, raising his arm and letting the dripping, unconscious assassin dangle from it.

One of the figures executed a short, polite bow. "Please, follow me," a male voice said quietly.

The soldiers kept a respectful distance as Piccolo followed the speaker away from the water's edge. Looming in the dark on the beach to the south were three identical space craft, their exterior lights fglowing like giant phosphorescent insects patiently waiting for prey. Piccolo casually let the assassin drag along the ground, disregarding the occasional rocky patch and the rough cobblestones in the path that led through Khri's now well-lit yard. At least a dozen soldiers had positioned themselves around the house; Piccolo noticed at least two stationed on the roof, three tucked into the greenery and four others in front of the windows that hadn't been shot out. Others were no doubt watching the front and sides of the house as well.

"Commander Sai!"

Khri's living room housed so many standing soldiers that Piccolo couldn't see her. One man detached himself from a group stationed near the fireplace and walked through the broken windows toward them. He was covered in body armor, but instead of a helmet he wore a headset that sprouted spiky wires that curved upward like an unfolded fan. Tall and lean, his red hair was cropped short except for a thin braid that fell across one shoulder. If the light hadn't been so bright, his golden eyes would have glowed as he gave Piccolo a slight bow. "Battle Commander Khri informed us you'd be coming." His eyes narrowed as he looked down at the unconscious man still suspended in Piccolo's tight grip. "I'm glad your hunt was successful. Please come with me. You can show her your prize yourself." He turned and led the way back inside the house.

Piccolo dragged the assassin over the broken window frames and shattered glass. He was relieved to know that Khri was still alive but wanted to find out for himself just how bad her injuries really were. He stopped abruptly when he saw a familiar figure standing in the middle of the room. He blinked in surprise, not quite believing what his eyes were seeing.

Khri was on her feet. Not only was she standing, her fists were clenched at her sides and the expression on her face was one of cold fury. Her eyes were narrowed to slits and glowed even with all the lights on, her jaw set tight and head lowered in tightly controlled wrath. Her uniform was shredded and she still bled from numerous points, but they either weren't bothering her or she chose to ignore them. Soldiers stood at attention on either side and those clustering in the middle cleared the way for Piccolo.

"Go ahead," Sai whispered behind him. "You don't have anything to worry about."

Glaring at the armored figures, Piccolo walked up to Khri and dumped the assassin at her feet. "As you can see, its still alive," he said gruffly.

Sai came forward to stand at her side. "Battle Commander, scans show there was a Tigradi ship hiding under water just off the coast. Scans also show its been completely destroyed. There are no life signs."

Khri continued to focus her baleful glare at the pathetic bundle at her feet. "Wake him up."

Piccolo took a position on Khri's other side as two soldiers stepped forward and activated their _diacha_, one dagger shaped and glowing green, the other a light lavender. They hauled the assassin upright so he sat on his knees, his head lolled back and his eyes opened. He ignored the water dripping from his black hair into his green eyes, coughed several times and smiled. "The infamous Battle Commander Khri. Feh."

Khri held out her hand to Sai, who placed her own _diacha _in it. Piccolo noticed that someone had thought to wipe away the blood.

"Battle Commander, don't waste a Confrontation on this vermin," Sai hissed. "He's not worth it."

Remaining silent, Khri leaned forward and thrust one business end of her _diacha_ into the assassin's neck just below his fluttering larynx. She slowly ran it up the stubbled skin, forcing his chin up. Sweat mingled with the blood and water droplets on his cheeks as he looked at her weapon, then up into her eyes. "Battle Commander Cydanis sent you" she said quietly.

When the response didn't come fast enough, one of the soldiers jabbed his elbow into his shoulder. "Answer her."

The assassin grinned, baring his fangs. "Battle Commander Cydanis sends her regards."

Khri held her _diacha _underneath his chin several more seconds. Suddenly she snapped her weapon away from his face, stood straight and smiled tightly. "Then you can send Cydanis a message for me." Her eyes glowed a bit brighter. "Tell her, 'you missed'." She looked up at Sai. "Clean him up and send him back to Cydanis' cruiser. With my regards, of course."

The assassin gasped and went pale, all defiance gone. The soldiers tightened their grip on him but he didn't struggle, seemingly paralyzed with fear. Khri started to turn away when her would-be assassin took a deep breath, then shouted a long stream of words in a language Piccolo couldn't recognize. He didn't need to; Sai's outraged expression told him enough.

The guards flanking Khri went into immediate action. _Diacha_ of all colors flared to life and they closed in. One of the armored figures holding the assassin threw him to the floor and pressed a knee into the back of his neck while others pinned his legs. Both arms were wrenched behind him, almost pulling them out of their shoulder sockets.

"Hold!"

Khri's voice cut like a knife through the angry growls and hisses. The guards instantly obeyed and slowly backed away except for the two holding the assassin. The Tigradi lay cowering on the floor, his breath coming in loud pants. "He's going back to Cydanis alive," she said harshly. "Now get this vermin out of my sight." She turned away and folded her arms, signaling an end to the matter.

Piccolo watched as the man was given another ride through the glass shards and hauled out into the night. "You should have killed him. Or better yet, let me kill him," he told Khri's back.

Sai answered for her. "That would have been merciful. Khri isn't known for showing mercy to vermin." When Piccolo glanced at him, one eye ridge raised, Sai continued. "The Tigradi Battle Commander has a different method than Khri for enforcing discipline. That assassin is already dead, but Cydanis herself will make sure he doesn't go quietly and sets a nice example for other would-be failures." Sai suddenly frowned and took a small step in Khri's direction. "Battle Commander...?

Piccolo turned in time to see Khri's knees buckle. Both he and Sai jumped to catch her as she slumped over, as did about four other soldiers. "Dammit, Khri, I did what you asked, now let me take you to see Dende," Piccolo growled at her as he helped Sai ease her to the floor.

The intense glow had left Khri's eyes as she looked up at him, a half-hearted smile on her face. "Sai, this...is Piccolo. He is...a friend."

The announcement seemed to catch the man off guard. He arched an eyebrow at Piccolo – oddly reminiscent of one of Khri's expressions – then gestured to a crew of green-suited men and women that had been waiting anxiously in one corner. "Friend, eh? Well, Piccolo, stand aside with me and you'll see the difference between Clan and High Clan."

Piccolo reluctantly took a couple of steps back as the green suits converged on Khri. She sat on her knees, doubled over, and dropped her _diacha_ on the floor beside her. "They're medical techs," Sai told him. "They're going to deal with the minor wounds, but Khri has to take care of the big ones herself. She's still got three bullets lodged in her kidney."

"What?" He watched as one of the techs opened up one of the tears on Khri's sleeve and pressed a syringe against undamaged skin. "Can she regenerate?"

Sai snorted. "I wish, but no. She uses what we call 'close-range TK.' It's a form of telekinesis done on a very small scale. High Clan, such as the Battle Commander, can repair shattered bone, broken blood vessels and other nasty injuries. The tech just injected a fortifier, which is nothing more than a big dose of vitamins, trace metals, proteins and other components that are needed for the repairs. Right now there's nothing else they can do until she gets those bullets out. Its dangerous to move her." He grimaced. "I tried to tell her that earlier, but there are times she won't listen."

Piccolo looked around and for the first time noticed all the activity in the room. One crew worked on cleaning up all the glass and empty shell casings. Two technicians were studying the damage the bullets had done to surrounding walls and furniture, while others appeared to be measuring the windows. The most urgent activity was centered around Khri. The faces that weren't hidden behind armor were tense and pale, but Sai seemed less worried and acted as if things well under control.

Finally one of the med-techs stood up and presented Sai with a small, clear container. Three bullets, coated with an amber fluid Piccolo now knew to be Khri's blood, clattered in the bottom. "She got all of them out, Sir. We've given her an antibiotic for possible infection. I'll evaluate her again once we've got all the smaller wounds cleaned up, but I see no need to transport her back to the _Aughenai._"

"I disagree, Tendri, but I'll wait for your eval."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed and he looked at Sai. "You're planning on leaving with her."

"If I can get the Council to agree to it in an emergency session and she doesn't countermand me, yes. She has no business being on Earth, and we need her on the _Aughenai_more than ever." His voice lowered so only Piccolo's sensitive ears could hear it. "We are in a lot of trouble, Piccolo. I don't know how much Khri has told you about why she's here, but we need her experience and skill now more than we ever have. Things have gotten worse just in the past few days, so I don't think she yet knows how bad it is."

The medical crew suddenly stood up and backed away, two of them helping Khri to her feet. There were new gaping holes in her uniform and the fabric covering her lower left ribcage had been torn away, revealing fresh scars and a lot of nasty bruising. She gave Piccolo and Sai a reassuring grin before letting the crew help her down the hall and into a distant room. "Sir, we're going to take care of the rest of her wounds and do the eval someplace a little less busy, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead, Tendri. Keep me updated."

Sai led Piccolo to a corner that was quiet only in a sense it wasn't being poked, prodded and cleaned. "I want to thank you, Piccolo, for catching the assassin. We were quick getting here but I don't think we could have been fast enough to catch him."

"I just wish she would've let me kill him in the first place."

"The fact that he made it to Earth at all shows just how dangerous the situation is for Khri." Sai gave the container holding the bullets a brief shake, then folded his arms and took in the damage done to the house. "The sheer audacity Tigradi showed in even attempting such an assassination, using an Earth weapon, trying to make it look like they weren't involved...it was unthinkable until a short time ago. The sooner I can get her off Earth, the better."

Watching the cleanup, Piccolo considered the idea of Khri leaving and was surprised to find he resented it and was even angered by it. He barely knew her and wasn't even sure if he really wanted to yet, but her leaving so quickly would deny him the chance to decide for himself. _Feh. Who am I trying to fool? She's made me curious. She's different and I want to know more about her, and that won't happen if she leaves._ He glanced back at Sai's determined face and a new thought struck him. _Is he her mate? Is that why he's so protective of her and wants to take her with him?_ Khri had never mentioned she had one, but then their brief conversations had never touched on personal issues.

Sai must have felt the change in Piccolo's expression towards him. "Piccolo, if you have other business, please don't feel as if you need to stay. Khri is out of danger and should mend quickly and completely."

Piccolo's face furrowed into his most intimidating scowl as he stared down the hall. "I'll see for myself that she's ok, if that's all right with you," he replied with an edge to his voice.

"As you wish. It shouldn't be long. I certainly wouldn't want to deny you the opportunity to say farewell, after all your help."

_I'd just like to see you try it._ Piccolo used a bit of chi to dry out his still dripping clothes, then summoned his weighed cloak and turban. He knew they made him look even more imposing than he already was, and they quickly produced the desired effect. Sai backed off a bit, his face less certain than it had been a moment before.

A short time later a door down the hall opened, spilling soft light and shadows. The guards snapped to immediate attention as two med techs followed Khri back to the living room. As she approached Piccolo studied her carefully, noticing the gash on her face had been treated and covered with a clear bandage. She'd been cleaned up and her shredded black suit and jacket replaced. She walked very slowly, but there were no signs of pain on her face as she surveyed the activity in her living room.

Tendri stepped up to Sai. "Sir, she'll be very sore for a couple of days, but she mended the shattered bone completely and repaired the significant damage done by the bullets. All she needs is fluids and food right now, plus some additional rest. I stand by my original evaluation, Commander Sai."

"You see, old friend?" Khri said, gracing him with half smile. "It wasn't that bad."

Sai took hold of the back of the big wooden chair and turned it around so it faced the living room. He repositioned the footrest in front of it, shaking his head at the tufts of stuffing poking through the battered leather like a pod gone to seed. "The sofa is full of glass or I'd put you there. We've brought a few provisions for you, including a bedroll. We'll set it up in the big bedroom."

_She called him 'old friend.' Definitely not something you'd call your mate._ Piccolo felt a sense of relief when Khri flashed him a small smile. "I told you I'd be fine."

"Humph. I'd hate to see what you look like when you're not fine. You look terrible."

"You pull three bullets out of your kidney and one out of your lung..." Khri winced as she sat carefully lowered herself into the chair, "...and then we'll talk about how _you_ look." She didn't object when Sai gently picked up her feet and put them on the ottoman. He saluted, which she acknowledged with an irritated nod, then sat down on the ottoman next to her feet.

"Battle Commander, there is an issue I need to bring to your attention now."

"Go ahead."

Piccolo noticed Sai tensed before continuing. "Due to the events of this evening, I would like to send an emergency missive to the Council and request that you formally be returned to duty on the _Aughenai._"

Khri's face was very still as she studied her former Second. "You expected this would happen. I thought the strike team got here a little too fast."

"I did, and the seriousness of the situation is why Ahtai put me in charge of the strike team." His voice lowered. Piccolo sensed Sai didn't want him to hear this part of the conversation but he listened anyway. "Khri, you are needed on the _Aughenai_, and you know this situation is far too dangerous, especially after tonight. I'm sure the Council will override Eldest and rule in favor of your return. You didn't want to come back to Earth, and now's your best opportunity to get off this rock."

Khri propped her elbows on the chair's armrests and steepled her fingers in front of her face. Piccolo watched her for any sign as to what she could be thinking. _I've got to warn Dende to never play poker with her,_ he thought. _She's too damn skilled at keeping her feelings to herself. I didn't know women could do that!_

Her reply took both men by surprise. "No, Sai."

"Commander?"

"There's more going on here than we know," she told him sternly. "I've been here only a couple of days – very eventful days, too – and I've come to the conclusion I need to stay. It would be easy to return to the _Aughenai_, but then I'd have that a nagging feeling I'd left something incomplete. And you know how I hate leaving things unresolved and incomplete, Sai." She'd placed a lot of weight on her last remark, Piccolo noticed, and wondered why.

Sai's jaw tightened but he didn't argue. "Check, Battle Commander. With your approval, I'll have the tech team replace your windows with something a bit stronger than glass. I'd also like to make a few additional security upgrades."

"As long as it doesn't include armed babysitters, Sai."

Defeated, Sai exhaled in exasperation and stood up. "Check. Right now I'm going to follow Tendri's recommendation and see what I can find in the way of food." He ignored Piccolo and stalked off towards the kitchen.

"This could be bad," Khri said softly to Piccolo, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "There's not much in my pantry at the moment. I've pissed Sai off and now I'm giving him an opportunity for revenge." She cocked her head and looked up at him. "Would you please sit down? I'm too tired to endure a sore neck and looking up at you is giving me one. Let me move my feet..."

"Don't you dare move," he growled, his eyes hard. To prove his point he simply assumed his favorite meditative position, arms and legs folded and floating a few feet above the ground beside her chair. "You shouldn't even be sitting up. Hell, you shouldn't even be alive."

"Don't tell me you're disappointed?" Khri asked, her tone subtly teasing. "I know you've lived on Earth all your life and are used to human frailties, but don't assume Leonids suffer the same weaknesses. I've lived through worse injuries than this one."

Sai reappeared moments later, carrying a clear plastic cup. The stuff in the cup, however, was far from clear and threatened to crawl out on its own. Large chunks floated on the top of a dark brown liquid. "Drink up, Battle Commander," he said, unable to hide a smug smile as he handed it to her.

The expression on Khri's face was nearly as venomous as the one Piccolo had seen her level at the assassin. "Sai, is this what I think it is?"

"I found a few bottles of what smells like beer in the back of your refrigerator, and thought it could only improve the texture and taste. That ration bar is the new formula ordered by Ahtai. You're one of the first privileged few to try it."

"You're a cold bastard, Sai. I should bump you down to ensign for this."

"I'm always at your service, Battle Commander."

"Then be of service and retrieve my slimpad. I think I left it in the kitchen, too. And take this swill with you!"

As soon as Sai had left the room and taken the offending mess with him, Khri looked around and appeared to be counting. "It looks like the med techs are clearing out as well as the bulk of the initial strike team. Hmmm, looks like twenty or so crew still on the ground..." Sai returned with the slimpad, which she activated and started poking with the stylus. "There," she said with one final tap. "Food is on the way. I'm not sure what I ordered, but it should be delivered in twenty marks...er...minutes or so. And Sai?"

"Yes, Battle Commander?"

"You get to answer the door when it arrives. Do not scare the delivery boy; he's the son of the restaurant owner in town. I'd like to be able to use the service again."

Sai merely nodded, excused himself to check on the strike team's departure, and disappeared out the back.

Piccolo noticed that Khri, temporarily free from having to exert her authority, had sagged back in the chair and closed her eyes. She looked pale and tired, maybe even a little vulnerable, especially with the medical tape on her cheek. He wondered if arriving just a few minutes earlier would have prevented the attempted assassination, then decided such a debate was pointless. What was important was that Khri wasn't fatally injured and would recover, and he'd caught the bastard who caused it. _She's also decided not to leave Earth even though she's got an excuse. Guess I have to respect her for that too._ Piccolo scowled. _I should leave. I don't have a reason to stick around. Its not as if there's nobody else watching out for her right now..._

"What is it, Piccolo?" Khri asked quietly. He looked up to find her watching him, a grin teasing the corners of her mouth. "Surely the floor hasn't done anything to deserve that glare?"

"Maybe you should go back to your ship," he said gruffly. "Your flunkey Sai seems to think you'd be safer there."

Khri suddenly gripped the arms of her chair and leaned forward. "Sai is anything but a 'flunkey,' and his thoughts regarding my life differ greatly from mine" The steel was back in her voice, the spark in her eyes, and Piccolo knew he'd crossed a line. "In this situation its my thoughts that matter, Piccolo. This decision rests with me, and there's only a handful of people who can countermand it. Sai isn't one of them and he's damn well aware of it." She relaxed and leaned back, her face softening. "If you're concerned for my welfare, don't be. A few security modifications will be made to the house that will prevent this from happening again."

_I don't trust your so-called security,_ he wanted to say, but just muttered "its your decision, as you said" instead.

When the food was finally delivered the troops, with Khri's blessing, passed shares first to the guards on duty, then the clean-up crew. Included in the boxes of sushi and spring rolls were many bottles of tea and water. Piccolo and Sai encouraged her to eat more than she wanted, which made her irritated with both of them as well as sleepy. It was then Piccolo learned that she had a grin that could mean trouble.

"Sai?"

Seated on the ottoman next to her feet, polishing off the last of a piece of yellowfin, Sai looked up. "Yes, Commander?"

Khri cryptically tapped her left wrist, then looked meaningfully at Piccolo through half-closed eyes. The corners of her mouth were curled up in a mischievous smile.

Both men looked at her in confusion. Khri watched Sai expectantly, then actually nodded at the Namekian.

"Whahh..." Sai's eyes flew wide open and he gagged on the sushi he'd been chewing on. He managed to hack it down, staring wild-eyed at Piccolo. He swallowed a couple of times, then shook his head. "Aw....shit! Commander, why didn't you tell me who he was earlier?"

Piccolo abruptly stood up and glowered down furiously at Khri. He felt justified when she started laughing, but then her face contorted in pain. "Piccolo, Sai would have...figured it out...sooner or later," she gasped, clasping her left side and trying to control her breathing. "I felt he...deserved and explanation...for my allowing you through security."

"I never imagined I'd see you again," Sai huffed as he glared at Piccolo, more embarrassed at being caught off guard than angry. "Especially here and now."

"I can guarantee my face will be the last you see, if that's what you want," Piccolo growled, taking a step forward.

Khri had collapsed against the back of the chair, struggling not to breathe too deeply. "If you two want to have a pointless pissing contest about who did or said what, take it outside. What's in the past stays there – understood, Sai? – and that includes names. I won't have this conversation again."

Piccolo's anger turned into alarm when Khri suddenly wilted, her head falling forward onto her chest. Sai caught her before she could slump to the side and hit her head on the armrest. "She's all right, she's just asleep. The med techs added a slow-acting sleep agent to the injection they gave her earlier and it finally kicked in." With fluid movements that could only come from practice, Sai pulled her out of the chair and carefully picked her up, his arms supporting her knees and back. "She'll be out at least until morning."

The master bedroom was spacious by any definition, but without furniture it echoed like an empty cathedral. Sai's boots clicked across the polished wood floor as he walked towards a bedroll that had been spread in a corner, far away from the big windows. He knelt and gently stretched out Khri's slack body so she lay on her back, arms and braid at her sides, and covered her with a blanket.

Piccolo knelt on the opposite side just long enough to make sure for himself that Khri was actually sleeping and not unconscious. Her breathing was soft and regular, her skin pale but not so much that it worried him. _If the damned woman actually had chi I wouldn't need to bother,_ he grumbled, fighting the urge to brush the stray hairs from her cheek. _I'd be able to see her signature and not have to take the word of this ass that she's all right._

Sai's amber eyes stared into Piccolo's black ones. "Now that she's asleep, we can talk freely."

"About what? If you're so sure she's going to be fine, there's nothing to discuss."

"That's bullshit, and you and I both know it."

Piccolo raised one eye ridge in surprise. Sai was spoiling for a fight but it didn't seem to be a physical one. Khri said she'd pissed him off and seemed to be right, but Piccolo sensed it wasn't just because she'd refused to leave with him.

Sai went on, eyes glowing a bit too brightly. "Khri is stubborn, as you've already been witness to. Neither Khri nor myself know why she's been sent here, but it was originally against her will. Now she tells me she's going to stay and won't say why. I don't know what changed her mind, but it had to be pretty significant because she doesn't do that often."

"So what does this have to do with me?" Piccolo asked, folding his arms.

"She named you 'friend.' It took me years to earn that honorific." His voice lowered into an angry hiss. "It means she trusts you! You don't know how few people I can say that about. There used to be more but after they tried to have her murdered they lost that privilege."

"I barely even know her! Why would she think I'm her friend?"

"Dammit, I don't know." Sai ran his fingers through his short hair, an exasperated gesture Piccolo had seen others use. "Maybe its because of what happened years ago." He glanced back down at Khri, who was still sleeping peacefully. When he looked back up, all signs of anger were gone.

"There's something I'm going to tell you, Piccolo, and she'd probably kill me to stop me if she knew what I'm about to say. During all those years since our last visit to Earth, Khri has been bothered by a regret she was never able to let go. It seems there was a very young Namekian she left behind to fend on his own. She offered to take him to Namek but when he refused, she respected his wishes. She didn't forget about him, though, and over the past thirty years she thought of him often, wondering if he'd survived, if he was happy and if he was still alone. Well, now she knows, and she calls him her friend."

Piccolo stared at the man who had been with Khri for untold years and tried to hide his shock. He thought back to the day when Khri had left him standing on the little hill overlooking the park, and tried to remember how he felt as he watched her turtle-like ship lift over the trees and disappear into the sky. After that day his life had been one tortuous struggle after another. Trials were followed by torment, then humiliation and continual defeat. Just the battle to live and fulfill the terrible legacy inflicted on him by his sire had wiped out all memory of Khri, and the moments of compassion she'd shown him. He felt his face start to flush and hoped Sai wouldn't figure out what it meant. _How can I feel guilt and shame over forgetting someone I met as a kid and knew less than a day? I suppose its one of the things that Gohan accidentally taught me when he showed me what friendship was._

His gaze drifted back down to sleeping figure that lay between Sai and himself. She was trying to roll to her left side as she slept, but she cringed in pain and went back to lying on her back. Her face relaxed and he marveled at how much younger she seemed. Sighing in resignation, Piccolo closed his eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"Keep an eye on her. You can try to be discreet about it if you want, but she'll catch you anyway. She looks innocent now but don't let her fool you; she's smarter and sneakier than you think. I'd prefer you not tell her we concocted this little plan but she'll probably figure it out and make us both pay." Sai walked around his sleeping superior officer to stand beside Piccolo. "I'm grateful for this. I'll worry a little less knowing someone is watching out for her. I'll be able to focus on the problems we're facing on the _Aughenai_. If it makes a difference, you'll be helping ease a lot of minds."

Piccolo shook his head. "Good for you, because I think I've finally lost mine."

_To Be Continued..._


	10. Friends in High Places

Errant Exile

Chapter 10: _"Friends in High Places"_

* * *

Sunlight and the squawks of feuding seagulls penetrated the thick fog of drug-induced sleep that Khri had been wrapped in all night. Groaning in protest, she tried to roll over and retreat under the blanket when pain lanced up and down her left side, turning her groan into a gasp. _What the...?!_

__Memories of last night's conflict came back into focus with the impact of the ocean surf crashing on the beach. Khri lay still and waited for the pain to subside. _Sai slipped me a sleeping drug, that cunning bastard,_ she thought angrily, easing herself into a sitting position. She started to throw off the blanket when she noticed the cuts on the backs of her hands. A couple of the larger ones had been sealed with clear medical tape, but the smaller ones were so numerous it appeared she'd pushed both hands into a rose bush. _I can only imagine what the rest of me looks like!_ She tossed the blanket aside and carefully got to her feet.

She'd slept on a standard issue bedroll on the floor of the big bedroom, which was actually nearly as comfortable as her own hard bed on the _Aughenai_. Beneath the windows sat a large supply crate with a couple of smaller boxes stacked on top. Moving cautiously so as not to aggravate her battered ribcage, Khri set the smaller boxes on the floor opened the heavy lid. _It's a good thing this was packed before I made Sai angry or it would be full of Ahtai's nasty ration bars,_she mused and began opening the boxes.

The supplies were standard issue from the _Aughenai_ and included many items she hadn't been able to bring with her or had the time to purchase on Earth. They had tried to allow for every possible scenario so they'd shipped several of her extra uniforms, including a lightweight one in case the weather became hot enough to be comfortable. Also packed was her duty cloak, linens, toiletries, a large medical kit and an assortment of small tools. She was happy to find her favorite robe had been thrown in; it was the one she'd purchased during her last brief shore leave. Sai had prodded her to buy something silky, luxurious and in a color other than black, but the _Aughenai's_ perpetual state of chill made that choice impractical. Resisting the temptation to grab a painkiller from the medical kit, Khri scooped up an assortment of the soaps, towels and her heavy, black robe and headed for the connecting bathroom.

As the water filled the big tub Khri peeled off her uniform and got her first good look at the damage the flying glass had done. She stared at her pale face in the mirror, her fingers probing gently at the long gash across her cheek. It would mend without a scar thanks to the quick treatment, but she couldn't remember feeling it happen. When she'd first heard the bullets and glass breaking Khri had spun to her right, which explained why her left side had taken the brunt of the injuries. Her jacket had provided some protection or the wounds down her neck, shoulder, breast and arm would have been worse. Her legs, however, were cross-hatched with small and large scratches, the worst of them covered with more of the clear tape. Deep umber and black bruises had spread across her ribs, nearly obscuring the four scars where the bullets had gone in and been coaxed back out. _Piccolo was right. I do look terrible, worse than he knows._ She freed her hair from her braid and wasn't surprised to see bits of glass fall on the tile floor and into the sink.

Sinking into the deliciously hot water, Khri noticed the near silence of the house. The strike team had returned to the _Aughenai_ sometime during the night, as she'd expected. The threat of another Tigradi assassination attempt couldn't be predicted, but she was doubtful they'd try such a stupid stunt again anytime soon. Cydanis had too many wounds to lick and subordinates to threaten. She let herself soak until the water cooled, took a trip through the shower, then bundled her hair into a thick towel and slipped on the long robe.

Khri padded down the hall in her bare feet. The equipment the strike team had stacked in the hall was gone, as were the empty food containers and trash left from the impromptu dinner. She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. _I hope there are at least a few of those fishy things left over from last night,_ she thought as her stomach growled. There was one less beer in the back, a casualty of Sai's testy sense of humor, but there was still plenty of leftover bottled water and tea. A cardboard box had one forlorn spring roll left in it but it was enough for breakfast. She set it on the nearby counter and closed the fridge door.

"You should still be asleep."

Practice and instinct took over and Khri spun into a defensive posture, both hands at the ready to form a blackfire blast. Her bruises screamed in protest and she had to clamp her lips together to keep from baring fang in both pain and aggression. Then she saw who her unexpected house guest was.

"Piccolo! Dammit, don't surprise me like that!" Khri wrapped one arm around her ribs as she tried to catch her breath. Her other hand had to grab for the towel on her head that threatened to list over her right eye. "You're the last person I expected to see this morning."

The big Namek stood in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen in his usual arms-folded posture. He hadn't even moved to defend himself, and Khri didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted. Already she could feel her face tingle with a threatening blush. "Your...Second...left late last night and took everyone else with him. I still have business with you so I decided to stay."

"Oh?" Khri glanced at the stove, concluded that making tea without a kettle or cup was impossible, and decided on water instead.

Piccolo reached inside his belt and pulled out a square of paper. "Bulma asked me to give this to you."

Khri quirked an eyebrow. "Who is Bulma?"

"Bulma Briefs, a friend of Goku and ChiChi. She's married to Vegeta. She's also an inventor and owner of Capsule Corporation."

The square of paper turned out to be an envelope. It was also wrinkled, slightly damp and smelled of seawater. Khri opened it and managed to coax out the stiff piece of paper inside. "It looks like some sort of formal invitation," she said, holding it up to the light. "I can't read most of what it says because the ink has bled." She certainly didn't blame Piccolo for giving it a seawater bath, not after last night.

"Feh. Its just an invitation to yet another party. She never needs an excuse to throw one." His scowl grew darker. "If Vegeta told her about you, then you're probably the reason for it. Its tomorrow night. Bulma wouldn't shut up unless I promised to give it to you."

The last thing she had anticipated was being invited to a party while on Earth, let alone one where she could end up being the main attraction. She doubted Vegeta had painted a flattering portrait of her, so why did the woman want to see her? It could be an attempt to tweak Vegeta's hot temper, but she could also be curious about Earth's latest guest. _It could be_, Khri laughed to herself, _that she's just throwing a big party_. "I will go. I will also get Bulma's number from ChiChi and call her myself once the phone is connected later today." She ran the risk and asked the question as she opened the refrigerator. "Are you going to be there?"

"My former student, Gohan, will be there. As long as I stay out of Bulma and ChiChi's way it should be...tolerable." He accepted Khri's proffered bottle of water with a grunt, then stared hard at her. "You should be resting. You still look like hell."

Khri sighed and closed her eyes. "Yes, I know, Piccolo. I don't need you to remind me." She then added quietly, "that's just what every woman wants to hear first thing in the morning." She cringed with pain not just from her healing wounds, but from a sharp emotional jab too close to her heart. _Now why did that hurt? I've been insulted far worse before this,_Khri wondered. _And he's right, I do look like hell, so I really don't have a reason to be offended...do I?_ Cold spring roll and water bottle forgotten on the counter, she tightened her grip on the towel and started to leave the kitchen.

"Khri, wait."

The unexpected softness of his gruff voice made her pause. She refused to turn around and looked at him over her shoulder instead. "Yes?"

Piccolo didn't meet her eyes, making her wonder if he actually might be feeling a little regret for the insult, intended or not. She remembered that as a youngster he'd been plain spoken, letting her know exactly how he felt regarding her interference with his immature world domination plans. As an adult he seemed just as plain spoken and didn't bother with unnecessary graces. Khri usually appreciated such frankness and honesty, so she questioned whether her injuries and recovery were making her feel more vulnerable than usual. She decided to, once again, give him the benefit of doubt and waited.

"There's no need for you to wait to heal," he said quietly, still looking down. "As soon as you're dressed I'll take you to see Dende."

"Dende! You mentioned that name at least twice last night," Khri replied, turning around. "Who is Dende?"

Piccolo seemed to find the change in subject a return to more comfortable ground. "He's the Guardian of Earth. He knows what happened the night you arrived and has asked that I bring you to see him." A small smile curled one corner of his mouth. "He's also a healer Namekian."

Khri's eyes widened in surprise. "A healer Namek is Earth's Guardian? I thought that Earth's current Kami was a warrior Namek."

She was surprised again when Piccolo looked away, scowling uncomfortably. "That used to be true. Dende hasn't been Guardian very long."

Khri started to fold her arms but the towel threatened to slide again. "If I remember correctly, Earth's previous Guardian was quite old, but I don't know if his age was advanced enough for him to have passed on recently. That would certainly explain a newer Guardian."

"His age had nothing to do with it. His time was over and he finally realized it. End of story."

_I sincerely doubt that...and just how much did you have to do with his decision? Perhaps I can get a straight answer out of Dende._ In spite of his surliness, Piccolo seemed to respect this new Guardian or he wouldn't have been so insistent that Khri see him. "Given Dende's station, this will fall under the protocol of an official Clan visit," she said. "I'll be back in a few moments."

Still moving slowly in consideration of her injuries, Khri left the kitchen and went back to the bedroom. She put on a fresh set of blacks from the crate, whisked her drying hair into a tight formal plait, and fastened the thick duty cloak to her shoulders. After picking up a pair of gloves she put on her Battle Commander face and hoped the Guardian wouldn't notice how pale she was

She found Piccolo in the living room. "I just spoke with Dende, and he's waiting for you," he said. "He's looking forward to meeting you."

"The sentiment is mutual," she replied softly, envying their gift of telepathy, then realized a potential problem with the plan. "Is it a long flight there?"

"Yes. The Lookout is on the other side of the continent."

Khri looked away. "I...see." _Kaio-Sama, how am I going to ignore this pain for that long a flight?_ She expected a reply out of _that_ deity sooner than she would get one from Eldest. _My side is too sore not to react to it, and that's a weakness I'd rather not have Piccolo see..._

A heavy green hand rested on her uninjured right shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Khri looked back up to see Piccolo smiling. "We don't have to fly," he said, having understood the reason for her reluctance when she always enjoyed flying before. "There's another way. Just keep still." He put two fingers to his forehead.

"Piccolo, what...." Khri gasped as her voice was sucked away.

* * *

"Welcome to the Lookout," Piccolo's voice rasped in her ear.

Struggling to catch her breath without taxing her injuries, Khri stared around her in shock.

Her living room had been swept away in a blur and replaced by a vast expanse of gleaming white marble tile that ended in blue sky. Khri found herself standing between two rows of palm trees, their fronds hissing faintly in a breeze scented with flowers. It tugged gently on her cloak as she studied the palace looming beyond the trees. The entire place had a feeling of great antiquity as well as a sense of ongoing renewal. The golden domes shimmered with fresh polish and the walls proudly displayed new plaster and paint.

"Since Dende took over as Guardian, he's been working to restore the Lookout," Piccolo explained. "The place is old and took a lot of damage in recent years, so he's made it his personal project to put it back together." His smile was almost imperceptible. "The first improvement was the end of old Kami's rule."

Khri glanced up at him without moving her head. There was a story there, she was certain, but her determination to find out the truth would have to wait for another time. Two figures had just left the palace and were making their way towards her. Khri walked beside Piccolo, past the palms and flowerbeds, to meet them halfway.

The Namekian Guardian appeared to be young by all standards, but Khri knew from personal experience that looks could be more than a little deceiving when it came to maturity. He wore simple flowing robes of brown and white, just like the rest of his kindred, and carried a twisted, wooden staff that had probably been part of the office for centuries. True to his healer nature, he lacked Piccolo's height and barely came up to Khri's chin. Next to him plodded a stout, dark skinned man with a kindly smile. The Guardian grinned up at her as Piccolo made the introduction. "Dende, this is Khri, the Leonid I told you about."

Dende handed his staff to his companion, walked up to Khri and placed one hand on his chest and the other on hers. "Well met, old friend and ally," he said in Namekian with a respectful bow of his head.

Khri smiled and copied his gesture. "Also well met, old ally and friend," she replied warmly in perfect Namekian.

"What was that all about?" Piccolo asked. "I didn't know you could speak Namekian!" He looked accusingly at Khri.

"You never asked me," Khri replied, falling back into Earth's language. "That was the traditional formal greeting between Namekians and Leonids. It goes back thousands of years but I believe it's the first time its been used on Earth. As for being able to speak Namekian, Eldest ordered me to learn it many years ago." She smiled. "Its not the easiest of languages to get your tongue and brain around, either!"

Khri felt Dende's hand on her chest suddenly press harder. His gleeful expression vanished and he gasped. "You're injured!"

"Its one of the reasons Piccolo was very insistent I meet you." Khri nodded towards the big warrior. "He can be very persuasive," she added dryly.

"He was right to bring you here," Dende said, bringing up his other hand and placing it gently against her injured side. "This will only take a moment..."

Khri watched as a soft glow surrounded Dende's hands. It shimmered as it spread, bringing with it a feeling of deep warmth and comfort. She felt herself relax as the heat seemed to concentrate in the areas with the worst injuries, which included the gash across her cheekbone. The dull throbbing in her side warmed intensely beneath his palm before subsiding, taking the pain with it. The glow dissipated into the breeze and he took a step back. "That should do it."

For the first time since the attack, Khri pulled her shoulders back and stood perfectly straight. The irritating fatigue she'd been battling was gone and so was the agonizing twinge in her ribs. She took a deep breath of air and let it out slowly, closing her eyes in relief. "Thank you so much, Dende! I've met Namek's healers before, but have never been on the receiving end of their gift." She bowed again. "I'm honored."

Dende nodded politely and smiled, but Khri noticed a slight frown creasing his eye ridges. "I've never seen injuries like yours before. Even though they were fresh they were half-healed. Great Elder Muri hinted that some Leonids have abilities of their own, but he didn't tell me what they were."

"We do," Khri said, peeling the tape from her face. "I'll be happy to explain, but first I think there's something else you'd rather ask me about. I don't think Piccolo brought me here for just healing."

"We can discuss that over tea." Dende took his staff back from the small man. "Mr. Popo has lots of experience in entertaining guests. Since we don't get them that often, he likes to show off his cooking skills when we do. Goku tells me his pastries are wonderful, but I don't understand how he can taste them when he inhales his food."

Khri followed her hosts into the palace where, as promised, a small table had been set at one end of a large hall. Piccolo had been just a few paces behind but didn't join them; he stalked off towards the other end of the airy room and settled into his meditation position. _Still within hearing range,_ she noticed, gratefully accepting a cup of tea and a fluffy, gooey pastry.

Dende's first question was direct and completely anticipated. "Khri, will you please tell me exactly what happened the night you arrived on Earth?"

Stretching her long legs out in front of her, Khri carefully recounted the events of just a few days earlier. Every so often he would nod or ask her to clarify a point, but one thing Khri new how to do well was tell a complete story without unnecessary embellishment or bragging. Long hours stuffed into smelly tavern corners had nurtured impatience with the ridiculous, boisterous yarns told by other species, especially when drawled through a haze of alcohol or pleasure drugs. When she finished her tale, Dende's expression vacillated between curious excitement and worry.

"Are you sure these Telkarri don't threaten Earth? And what about the Tigradi clan?"

Khri sighed, sending small ripples across the surface of her cooling tea. "I can't make promises, Dende, and I certainly won't lie to you. The Telkarri pose a mild threat to Earth, but I have good reason to believe they're about to be contained. Permanently. I'm more worried about Clan tensions at the moment and what impact, if any, they could have here." It was then that she remembered her neglected slimpad. There could be a dozen or more new missives on it by now! "I might know more later today, and worrying about it until then is pointless."

"You're right," he said softly. "It gets discouraging sometimes, though. After all the Earth has been through – the Saiyans, Dr. Gero and his androids, Cell, and then Buu – I wonder if the planet is being targeted for destruction."

"I understand your feelings, Dende," Khri sympathized, "but I can assure you there are hundreds, if not thousands of worlds, that have been victimized merely because they exist, or they have something someone else wants and has the power to take it. Your birth world, Old Namek, is a perfect example." She had been looking for an opportunity to bring up the subject and tried to keep her voice from sounding too intense. "Do you know anything about the cataclysm that killed everyone but Guru?"

Dende shook his head sadly. "No. Guru never talked about it and didn't pass on the memory of what happened. Many of us wondered, but Muri always told us not to bring it up. He thought that asking about it would be too painful for Guru."

Khri sighed in disappointment. "Understandable, but it could prove to be shortsighted. I hope you don't think I'm prying, but my questions are important. Are you certain there are absolutely no other Nameks on other worlds? I know the previous Guardian came here right after the catastrophe. Did he leave any records? Any notes?"

"Nothing," Dende said, shaking his head. "He didn't even realize he was an alien until the Saiyans came here and said Piccolo was a Namekian. The only thing we do know is what he told Mr. Popo; that he was sent here as a child with a note telling him to wait for others. They never came. He also has no memory of his childhood on Namek. Is that right, Mr. Popo?"

"Yes, Kami-Sama," the genie said, clearing away the cold tea pot and setting down a hot one. "Previous Kami-Sama never talked to Popo about it again, either."

It was hard for Khri to keep her disappointment from showing. There was just one question left. "Dende, have you ever heard the word 'Eudori'?"

"Eudori," he repeated slowly. "Eudu means 'forgotten' in Namekian but that's the only word that comes close."

"In my language, the word stands for a combination of 'renewal' and 'setting forth.' It's an archaic word with a strange definition. One I've been puzzling over for many, many years."

Dende frowned. "So much was lost during the cataclysm, Muri says we may never know or recover it all. If that word goes back to a time before it happened and wasn't used often, it might be why I don't remember it. Why is it important?"

Khri stared hard at the young Guardian, unsure that he was prepared for what she was about to say. _He's got to know, sooner or later, if he doesn't already,_ she reminded herself. "Dende, that single word has something to do with the future of Namekians."

His eyes rounded in surprise. Out of the corner of her eye Khri thought she saw Piccolo's ear twitch. "What? Why?"

"Right now I don't know," she said frankly. "Over the past three decades I've been working on a special project assigned to me by Eldest. He knew that Namek had suffered a terrible loss but was unable to discover why. He began to grow alarmed that the population wasn't recovering. Oh, Guru did the best he could on his own, but your race continued to be...ah," Khri felt herself blushing. "...Unproductive. He asked me to research it, find out the cause and come to a conclusion, since Namek didn't have the resources to do a thorough job."

Dende saw through her neutral expression. "You found that we're dying out. Didn't you?"

"So, its no secret to you." Khri felt relief; at least she wouldn't be trying to convince a Namek in total denial. "I'm sorry. The information I have and the models I've run all show the same thing. The cataclysm permanently damaged Namekian society and their viability as a race. Frieza's rampage accelerated the inevitable." She paused, struggling to find a way to ease what she was about to say. "I don't know how to explain this...but current Namekian reproductive methods were intended to be....er...redundant."

"Redundant?"

Khri definitely saw Piccolo's ears twitch and one eye open. "Tissue samples confirmed long ago that Nameks weren't originally asexual. I don't know what happened to your females – maybe they were evacuated during the cataclysm and never returned – but your current method was redundant, a backup in case of emergencies. As a primary means of reproduction it worked for a while, but eventual failure is imminent. Other species have developed similar methods, but only used them for a short time." She leaned back, softening her tone. "Now do you understand why I asked if other Nameks could be out there?"

"I...I do." Dende's voice was barely above a whisper as he stared at the table. "But I don't think there are. Several years ago Goku visited Kaio-Sama on his planet, to ask for help in finding New Namek. Kaio-Sama was able to help him sense their chi, but Goku never mentioned feeling other Namekians. If they existed, I'm sure Goku would have felt them. But Khri..." he looked up, "...what does all of this have to do with that word, 'Eudori'?"

Khri closed her eyes and took a deep breath. None of the information Eldest had given her for the project had pointed to a solution, nor had the clues she'd gleaned herself. All possible trails lead to Namekian extinction. With one exception.

Eudori.

She opened her eyes. "While researching the problem, I've been blocked at certain points and just plain stumped by others. There have been times when I've pursued a line of information, thinking there might be something there, when I'm stopped cold by one word. Every time I tried to find out more about it, I get a nasty little missive informing me the information is classified."

"Eudori?"

"Yes." Khri pushed away from the table and started pacing, a habit she'd broken ages ago. Stress, on rare occasion, could push her back into it. "I don't know if it's a person, or a place. I can't even find out if its real or if it is, if it still exists!" she snapped fiercely. "I've petitioned Eldest to release the files but he won't do it! Dammit, I don't know why he insisted I take on this project when he hoards the information I need to complete it!"

Dende stood up and stepped into Khri's path, effectively stopping her. "Would it help if I spoke to Great Elder Muri again? I can ask him about Eudori. Maybe Guru said something to him."

She forced herself to unclench her fists, brought up short by the worry and fright on Dende's face. "That would be very helpful. I need to get in contact with the Leonid flagship, the _Aughenai_, and find out the status of the Telkarri containment and Clan friction. I can come back later...if Piccolo is willing to bring me."

"Will you be going to Bulma's party tomorrow night? I'll be there. I'm sure we'll be able to discuss it further there, in private."

Khri flinched. She'd forgotten all about the party! "You just reminded me I need to contact Bulma and accept her invitation!" _Dende knows Bulma? How did that come about? There must be hundreds of stories these people share!_ "Hopefully we'll both know more by then."

Dende smiled in approval, but then turned serious. "Khri, I feel I need to tell you something...personal. I apologize if you already know about it." He lowered his voice to a level she knew Piccolo couldn't hear. "When I was healing you, I noticed something strange. Your left shoulder..."

Khri smiled gently at the young Namek as they walked together towards the door. "You found that, did you? Its not so strange, and certainly nothing to be worried about. What you found was old scar tissue that our medics can't do anything about." Khri closed her eyes, remembering but refusing to relive the spectacular disaster that had landed her in a wound recovery center for weeks. Time and coaxing on her part had faded the scar on her back to a star-shaped web of thin, gold lines. The exit wound in the front was barely visible now. "My left shoulder is a bit weaker than my right, but its not enough to cause problems."

Dende raised one eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked, sounding unconvinced.

"Positive. The last mandatory checkup I had came back fine. I'm not the type to let an injury go unchecked." She bit down on her lip when she realized what she'd said. _Liar. You still have those scars on your wrist. What's your excuse for that?_

"I don't know, but it didn't feel like scar tissue to me," Dende said. "It felt...hard. Like a rope, snaking along the back of your collarbone."

Hand moving unconsciously to her shoulder, Khri used her thumb to prod the area he found suspicious. _Like a rope...along the back of my collarbone..._ There was something about his description that tugged on her memory. Why would he mention old scar tissue and not the medical implant in the back of her neck? "If I get an opportunity, I'll have it checked again."

"I wish there was something I could do for you," he said as they stepped back into the glare of the early afternoon sun. "Unfortunately bodies think that old injuries – even improperly healed ones – don't need fixing. Like scars."

"You're a wonderful healer, Dende, and I'm sure you're an even better Guardian." Khri returned Dende's grin.

Piccolo appeared outside the palace and joined them between the palms. "Is your little tea party over with, or should I just go back inside?"

_That's what eavesdropping will earn you when you're pretending to be meditating,_ Khri thought. It would have been amusing except he would probably want to ask his own set of questions about what he'd overheard. "The 'tea party,' as you call it, was necessary," she shot back smoothly. "There are occasions when respecting tradition will earn you more rewards than just flattening everything in sight."

"Are you ready to go back? I didn't plan on wasting all my time up here."

Khri bit down on the half dozen snarky retorts that came to mind. "Then I apologize for taking so long and not considering the possibility you may have had other plans today. If you would be so kind as to return me home, I promise not to infringe on your time any further."

Piccolo actually took a step backward at the chill in her voice. It had taken her years to master Eldest's frosty, authoritative tone, and this was another time it served her well. His dark eyes bored holes into hers as he struggled to come up with a reply. "Fine!" he finally growled, hands clenched.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Guardian." She gave Dende another formal bow. "I will see you at the party tomorrow, and I look forward to talking with you again."

"The feeling is mutual! Goodbye, Khri!" Dende raised his hand in farewell.

"It's about time," Piccolo muttered, grasping her shoulder. "You are the most damned strange female..." Two fingers went to his eye ridge.

"So you've said, Namek. So you've said."

* * *

AN: What a rough chapter! Long on narrative, short on action...not one of my favorite things to write! Ah well...on with the party! 


	11. The Low Road and High Road

Errant Exile

Chapter 11:_ "The Low Road and High Road"_

AN: This chapter decided to insert itself into the story! I had every intention of getting Khri to the party ASAP, but she decided to take a road trip and spoiled my plans. In hindsight I think it was a nice addition to character development.

Khri's Highlander motorcycle is based on the gorgeous Dodge Tomahawk, a drool-worthy concept bike with a Viper V-10 engine that will pull 500 hp. Do a search on it – you have to see it to believe it.

* * *

_"Why can't simple plans just stay simple?_" - Khri 

The morning was clear and bright after the last of the pre-dawn thunderstorms rolled out to sea, leaving the air cool and fresh. A few stray seagulls lofted high on the breezes as Khri watched from her vantage point on the cliffs above, then brushed an errant strand of blonde hair from her eyes. She turned and walked back to where the new motorcycle waited by the side of the road, then slipped the goggles back over her eyes. She remounted and punched in the code to unlock the ignition, smiling as the engine purred to life.

Having returned from the Lookout yesterday afternoon feeling invigorated thanks to Dende's healing skills, Khri had gone to work at once. Piccolo had bid her a curt farewell and left without a word after practically dumping her on the beach. She almost felt insulted, but then decided that this was just another one of his normal behaviors and the rudeness wasn't deliberate. The next few hours were devoted to dealing with the missives on her slimpad, reassuring Sai that she was doing just fine, and placing an order of furnishings for the house. The friendly grocer had sent along another shipment of easy-to-heat meals and the local technician arrived to activate the telephone. It was when she was searching for an extra long bed that she stumbled on an ad for the big bike.

The Highlander motorcycle, the newest high-end model rolling off Capsule Corporation's production lines, was the first impulse purchase she'd made in years. An aircar or a small plane would have been more practical but the specifications of the cycle had been irresistible. Spaceships, after all, weren't covered in gorgeous shiny chrome, didn't have flashy blue lights between the twin front tires, and didn't let you feel as if you were flying without leaving the ground. After its delivery the previous night – in a capsule, of all things! -- she'd packed a knapsack, spent another night on the bedroll, and left early the next morning. Khri leaned with the motorcycle as she took a curve faster than the posted speed. _Ha! Leave it to humans to invent machines for the sole purpose of having fun!_

Khri took the next several curves at high speed, ignoring the angry squawks of seabirds scattered by her passing. The road had been winding in and out of seaside cliffs for most of the morning, but just ahead it would veer northwest and leave the coast behind. According to the map she'd purchased when fueling up, driving to Capsule Corporation's headquarters, where Bulma's party was being held, would require a three day road trip. Sai had notified her that the tech crew wouldn't be installing the security windows and the computer for nearly another week, so she had plenty of time to enjoy herself. When she checked her mirrors she often would include the sky as well as the road; on more than one occasion she felt as if she were being followed. _It_ could_ be Piccolo, but after that little stunt the Tigradi tried to pull I can't dismiss anything,_ she thought.

The rest of the morning passed quickly as Khri drove through a broad and ever changing landscape. The tropical flora vanished soon after she left the coastal region and the cliff side road, changing to a grassy plain before merging into lush foothills beneath a range of tree-covered mountains. She glanced at the bike's chronometer. Thanks to the spectacular weather and light traffic Khri found she'd shaved off more kilometers than she had expected. Check-in at her hotel wasn't until late afternoon, and getting there early would just be a waste of a perfectly good day. She decided that Ahtai's atrocious ration bar would stay in her pack. She was going to stop for a real lunch instead.

The air grew cooler and smelled of pine as the road twisted its way up and wound through the wooded mountains. Khri shivered, grateful for the lined leather jacket she'd purchased along with other Earth-type clothing. Given all the skimpy dresses most women on the television seemed to prefer, she was pleasantly surprised to find practical, comfortable clothing existed too. Her new black sweater was soft and warm, the matching black jeans were still scratchy but fit comfortably and the rubber-soled short boots had a lot more cushioning than her standard issue pair did. Sai would have grumbled about her refusal to buy anything sensual or colorful rather than practical, but old habits died hard. She grimaced at the sudden twinge of homesickness, then kicked the bike into a higher gear. It was past the noon hour when the road began a steep incline down and led into the first town Khri had seen in many kilometers.

"Anisdale" barely met the definition of the word "town." It consisted of a gas station fused with a small grocery store, a diner and a run-down bar, all of them crowded along the south side of the road. No houses had been built in Anisdale, probably due to the cramped building conditions in the little valley. A towering rock wall, created when the road was blasted through, dominated the north side of the road with just enough allowance for a wide shoulder. She rode past a semi-truck and trailer that had parallel parked on the shoulder, squeezing the already narrowed road even further.

The diner's gravel parking lot was packed with aircars and smaller trucks. She considered trying the food at the less busy tavern, but the unsavory-looking band of men that staggered out the doorway made her reconsider. Khri pulled around the side of the diner and out of sight of the windows, turned off the bike and dismounted.

When Khri had purchased the Highlander the last thing she expected was for it to arrive in a box no bigger than her hand. At first she thought it might have been the codes to unlock it but inside, wrapped in blister packing, was a large capsule with a thumb switch on one end. It took three or four tries to convince herself she'd actually seen the big machine appear and disappear in a puff of white smoke. _It sure beats finding a parking place and worrying about thieves,_ Khri thought as she stuffed her goggles into her knapsack, typed in the bike's locking codes and stepped aside. Sure enough, it gave a repeat performance of last night's show and encapsulated itself. She pocketed the capsule, promising herself she'd talk to Bulma about a possible military contract for the amazing things, and made her way to the front door.

The diner's counter bore the bulk of the lunch crowd as men sat shoulder to shoulder. Voices clashed with the rattle of dishes, the ringing of the register and the droning jukebox in the corner. Many of the customers were either finishing their meals or paying their bills now that the lunch rush was over, making the staff rush to clear off emptying tables. Khri walked casually past them to the ladies room, washed the dust from her hands and face, then returned to the dining area where she found a semi-private booth in the front corner. It was surrounded on two sides by windows that overlooked the parking lot, which gave her the choice of watching the room for suspicious activity or watching the parking lot for the same. _Old habits really do die hard,_ she mused as she tossed her knapsack on the seat, slid in next to it stared out the windows.

The waiter, a middle-aged man who ate too little and smoked too much, appeared at Khri's table. She ordered the recommended sandwich – a concoction called a "slider" and cold tea – then revisited the phone conversation she had with Bulma the previous day.

The woman had been both kind and gracious but Khri was very glad she'd declined the offer to stay at the Briefs' house_. "We've got plenty of guest space! You must stay overnight with us,"_ Bulma had insisted_. "I know Trunks wants to talk with you again, and he tells me Goten is eager to meet you!"_

_"I appreciate your generous offer, Bulma, especially to a stranger, but I don't want to make Vegeta uncomfortable in his own home." _Not quite the truth, but a political answer was sometimes the best one.

_"Nonsense! Vegeta spends so much of his time in the gravity room training he often doesn't even notice it when we do have guests!"_

Khri had to pull the receiver away from her ear to keep the woman's increasing volume from becoming painful_. "But won't he be at the party?"_

_"Of course!" _Bulma boomed. _"Dear, Vegeta scowls at everybody, whether he likes them or not. I'm just going to follow the usual routine and keep him out of the kitchen the day of the party so he's good and hungry. That way he'll be too busy shoveling food into his face to pick a fight with anybody."_

Rumors had reached Leonid space about Saiyan eating habits long before Khri had witnessed it first hand at Goku's table. Bulma, it seemed, knew her husband's weak spot and was experienced in using it to her advantage. _"Thank you, Bulma, but I don't want to cause Vegeta any more discomfort than necessary."_

_"I wish you'd reconsider, but at least coming to the party. I'm just glad Piccolo kept his promise and delivered your invitation. He was so grumpy when I gave it to him I was certain he'd throw it away."_

Khri had smiled to herself, deciding not to mention its little seawater bath. Before she hung up the phone she willingly promised to arrive at least an hour early for a quick tour of the Capsule labs. _If something as wonderful as the motorcycle and capsule technology came from there, who knows what else Bulma is working on,_ she wondered

The waiter arrived with her food, his hand shaking to the point of spilling her tea as he set down the glass. Khri saw that his eyes were shifting over to the far side of the diner, and a small drop of sweat ran down the side of his face. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

"There might be trouble," the waiter muttered, wiping his hands on his splotchy apron. "Three young punks just came in, probably from a gang. We've been seeing more of that type lately." He looked her up and down. "You look like a nice lady," he whispered hoarsely. "If they start something you go past the restrooms and out the back door, ok?"

"Thanks for the warning," she said. "I'll be careful."

Pretending to dig into the sandwich, Khri watched out of the corner of her eye as three young men took over a booth on the other side of the dining room. The song rattling out of the jukebox seemed louder as conversations either quieted or faded away, the other diners sharing anxious, sidelong looks. A few of the burlier customers, probably the drivers of the delivery trucks, straightened in their seats and leveled warning glares at the threesome. Their casual clothing – identical blue jeans, white tee shirts and battered leather jackets – could be an indication they were gang members, but her lack of experience on Earth made her uncertain. Muscles rippled under their tees but she was willing to bet they were the type earned in a gymnasium rather than in productive physical labor. A quick check on her shielding confirmed they weren't Tigradi. They were also watching her with more than just a casual leer as they hassled the waitress trying to take their order.

The tea was cold but tasteless as Khri's mind scurried to anticipate every potential problem before it happened. _They could be just stopping for lunch, as I did. They could be gang members, like the waiter suspects. I could also be putting all these innocents in serious trouble. Have the Tigradi gone mad, using ignorant humans to chase me down? Dammit!_ If she could make her way outside and unencapsulate the motorcycle, Khri felt she stood a good chance of drawing the troublemakers away from the diner. The roadmap to Capsule Corporation hadn't provided any information on the terrain ahead, but the pine forests she'd just left would provide good cover where she could deal with them appropriately if necessary. She ate slowly, noticing that the thugs hadn't ordered food. She felt only slightly reassured by the feeling of her _diacha_ pressed against her ribcage. She'd reluctantly torn a makeshift pocket in the lining of her jacket for it, but was now glad she had. _It's a good thing old habits do die hard_, she thought as she crumpled her paper napkin in her lap.

A shock rippled down Khri's back, causing her to gasp as the charge traveled down the backs of her legs and arms. It felt as if someone had dropped a piece of ice down the back of her sweater. It had happened at least once before on Earth; someone or something had brushed against her natural shielding and they hadn't used blackfire. She took another swallow of the tea to hide her discomfiture. The brush had been hard, clumsy and intentional but she could feel no hostility at all. She slowly lowered the glass, surprised and confused at the only conclusion that made any sense.

_Piccolo._

_How can he do such a thing?_ Khri's thoughts scrambled for an answer. Like most other species Nameks were confined to using chi and shouldn't be able to touch her shielding at all. The few known races that did use blackfire, other than her own, could never survive on a world with an oxygen and nitrogen atmosphere. Had Piccolo's upbringing on Earth made the difference, and would Dende be able to do the same? _No time to riddle this out now,_ she admonished herself, grabbing her knapsack and the check. The important thing was Piccolo was very near, knew where she was and had made a deliberate attempt to get her attention. Was he merely letting her know he was nearby, or was he trying to convey a warning?

Khri paid her bill and headed for the front door, backpack dangling from her left hand. She hoped she didn't need to use it as a shield; her slimpad was durable but wouldn't stand up to a direct assault. In the reflection of the glass door, an instant before she pulled it open, she saw the toughs move to leave the booth. The door swung shut behind her as she fished the _diacha_ from its improvised pocket and discreetly tucked it up her sleeve.

The end of the lunch rush had nearly emptied the parking lot. Only a few vehicles remained, one of which was a large, white mail truck parked near the entrance. It provided Khri with a short term hiding place from which to take a look around. A few empty air cars waited for their owners, as did a half dozen small delivery trucks. There were two vehicles of immediate concern. The first was the semi and its trailer that still sat across the street, the second a black passenger van with dark tinted windows. She looked the nearby buildings up and down but there was no sign of Piccolo. There were still plenty of customers in the diner which meant witnesses, unless she could lure her pursuers out of town. Khri took a deep breath, forced her shoulders to relax, stepped out from behind the truck and started walking towards the road. Her free hand reached into her pocket and fished out the capsule containing the Highlander. She dropped her knapsack, thumbed the capsule's switch and tossed it a few feet away, waiting just long enough to confirm the motorcycle's reappearance before turning around.

The leader was the tallest, with slicked-back dark hair and a face that would have been handsome if it weren't for the leer. He struck a match and lit the cigarette dangling from one corner of his mouth. His companions were both shorter and much broader, the obvious muscle of the group. All three of them looked as if they still belonged in a youth academy if Khri guessed their human ages correctly.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" she asked calmly, folding her arms and leaning against the Highlander.

The leader halted, waved out the match and flicked it into the gravel. "I think you might," he replied with a nasty grin. "That's a nice motorcycle you've got there. A new one by Capsule, right? I think I saw a picture of one in a magazine." He began to circle around to Khri's left and the other two fanned out.

"You can stop right there," she said softly. "If you'd like a closer look, I suggest you visit a sales office. This one isn't available."

"Aww, I just wanted to look at it. Of course," he added, his eyes slowly moving down Khri's body, "I'd like a closer look at the rider, too..."

Cold anger started to burn in Khri's chest as her face warmed in embarrassment, which added fuel to her temper. _What are the Tigradi thinking, daring to insult me by hiring this refuse to follow me? Do they think I've gone soft and won't kill this vermin?_ Her fingers coaxed her _diacha_ out of her sleeve and into her hand.

The lead thug took a long puff of the cigarette, exhaling the smoke as he tossed it aside. "Such a pretty lady shouldn't be traveling all alone. Bad things can happen on the road. Hey, I know! That bike is big enough for two. Why don't I go with you?" He took a meaningful step forward. "I'd be happy to let you do the driving..."

Khri's right hand snapped up, a single _diacha_ blade shimmering, at the same time a knot of blackfire appeared in her left. All signs of sneer and leer fell from his face and he froze, staring down at the hissing light hovering underneath his chin. Khri glared at his companions, one at a time, through slitted eyes as she drew back her left arm. "Run," she said quietly.

The leader flinched. "Not you," she whispered, lifting the blade higher and forcing his head back.

The two other thugs lost their nerve and fled towards the black van. They fumbled with the latches until the doors opened, then scrambled inside and slammed them shut. Satisfied she had two fewer problems, Khri turned back to her captive. She quenched the blade and the blackfire, then rammed the hot end of the _diacha_into the man's neck. "If you move, I'll turn this back on and fry a hole through your pathetic little brain. Who sent you?"

Now sweating profusely and trembling the man stammered, "I...he never told me his name!"

Khri's hand gripped the neck of his tee shirt and jerked him closer. "What did he want?"

"He...he wanted to know where you were going! He paid me...paid us...twenty-five thousand zeni...plus twenty-five thousand later...to follow you and find out!"

"Is the man who paid you here? Do you know where he is now?"

"No...I don't know! He wasn't in the diner, I swear!"

Khri's jaw tightened. She never talked to vermin, especially before or during a fight, and having to resort to questioning the sniveling creature irritated her all the more. She gave the human a hard shove, sending him sprawling backward to the ground and sliding several feet. "If I see you again I will kill you," she growled, pointing the _diacha_ at him.

The black van suddenly roared to life. The taillights flickered as it went into reverse, spinning the rear tires and spewing gravel. The sliding side door flew open and one of the thugs appeared, urging their fearless leader to get in. He frantically got to his feet, the back of his clothes ripped and frayed from his slide across the parking lot, and jumped inside. As the van pulled away he threw a terrified look at Khri before the door slammed shut. It careened back onto the road, nearly hitting the Highlander as it sped past and headed west.

Khri stared after it. "I hope I just didn't make a big mistake by letting them go," she murmured to herself. "Perhaps I am getting soft..."

The unexpected rumble of a large engine made her look up. The semi truck belched black carbon into the air from its exhaust pipes and the headlights turned on. Frowning, Khri returned the motorcycle to its capsule and the safety of her pocket, never taking her eyes from the truck as it slowly moved into the road. It had been unhitched from its trailer, leaving it resting alongside the road like a beached leviathan. She could make out the driver but as far as she could tell there was no passenger. She began to step backwards, angling away from the diner, when she felt the tell-tale surge of a blackfire power-up.

_Diacha_ snapped into its bo form, Khri lunged into the road and vaulted herself up a moment before the blast hit the concrete. She landed in a large cloud of dust and gravel, but the crater in the middle of the road didn't slow down the semi. The driver pulled his arm back in the window and drove into it, scraping bottom as it climbed out again. The rig changed direction and veered away from the diner just as a small group of people spilled out the door. "Get back inside!" Khri shouted, not taking her eyes from the truck now bearing down on her. Even without its trailer to drag it down it was slow to accelerate, and she decided to take advantage of the time. _That idiot can't attack what he can't see!_ She tightened her shielding, watched the distance close between herself and the front bumper, then took off running straight at the oncoming rig.

The driver, his eyes glowing behind the tinted glass of the windshield, hadn't expected the stunt. Before he could stretch his arm out the window and form up an attack, Khri vaulted onto the truck's hood, ran up the windshield and disappeared over the top. She let one of the blades dissipate, transferred the energy to the other one, and plunged it straight down through the sheet metal roof of the cab. The driver bellowed in pain the same instant a pale lavender _diacha_ blade sliced up through the roof. It nicked her left arm just above the wrist and she took a step back, careful not to lose her balance. The blade vanished as her attacker lost control of both his weapon and the truck, which started to careen off the road and headed straight for the rock wall. Khri took a deep breath, slid down the windshield to the hood and took a flying leap. The landing was hard but controlled as she rolled away, stopping just in time to see the semi sideswipe the side of the mountain. Showers of sparks flew to the tune of shrieking metal as the truck continued grinding against stone for many feet before shuddering to a stop.

Khri got to her feet and ran, feeling her fury grow with every step. Before she reached the cab she could see the driver had slumped over the steering wheel. A trickle of leaking fuel snaked it way out from under the rig and began crawling towards the road. _Dammit, I hope he's not dead yet!_ She leaped onto the running boards, grabbed hold of the window frame and the latch, then ripped the door off the hinges and threw it down.

The driver, dressed in a set of well-worn and ill-fitting Earth clothes, was barely alive. The green glow in his eyes was already starting to fade. Khri fisted her hand in his shirt and hauled him out of the truck. His clothing was ripped and scorched at the right shoulder where her _diacha_ had sunk deep. It had bored through his torso and left an exit wound and similar burn just below his left ribcage. "Why are you here?" she demanded, her gold eyes burning into his emerald ones as she pulled his bloodied face close.

Blood trickled from his mouth but the Tigradi managed a sneer. "That's funny...Battle Commander...I was...supposed to...ask you the same thing." The light in his eyes went out and his head lolled back.

Khri dropped the corpse but continued staring at it, lost in thought. She slowly tucked her _diacha_ into her jacket lining, then looked back down the road at the diner. Aircar after aircar was fleeing the scene, hurrying down the road in the opposite direction the van had taken. At least one truck squealed its tires in its haste. Two or three customers stood at the side of the road, looking in her direction, but ran away when they saw her drop the body.

"Your friend Sai underestimates you. It looks to me like you can take care of yourself."

Khri didn't immediately turn at the sound of the gruff voice. "Just how long have you been watching all this, Namek?"

"Long enough to know they aren't serious about killing you."

"You noticed that too, eh?" She picked up the body of the Tigradi and tossed it back in the cab. "I don't know whether to feel relieved or insulted." She also wasn't sure if she felt relieved or insulted Piccolo had been following her.

When she turned from the cab she startled. Piccolo was standing right behind her, customary scowl on his face and arms folded. _He moves too fast for comfort,_ she grumbled to herself. Standing on the rig's running boards put her at eye level with him and she was surprised to see his expression soften. "You're hurt." He firmly but gently grasped her wrist and forced her to extend her injured arm.

Khri looked down at her sleeve. It had a large gash and her new sweater, made of synthetics, had melted edges where it had been burned through. Her clothes had taken the brunt of the damage but the Tigradi's blade had left a long scorch mark across the inside of her arm. It did sting, but she was far more conscious of Piccolo's strong, callused fingers wrapped around her wrist. She stiffened at the skin-to-skin contact and fought the urge to jerk away. Not even Sai would have attempted such a thing, but etiquette on Earth was far more relaxed than what was tolerated on a Leonid battle cruiser. Casual physical touch was something she would have to get used to whether she liked it or not. "It's not bad," she said, suddenly mindful of the four small scars covered by his warm fingers. _How ironic is this? The first time we meet he intentionally chomps me, now thirty years later he's concerned that I'm hurt!_ She moved to pull her arm back and he released her. "There's some burn tape in my medical kit. I'll take care of it when I reach my hotel."

Piccolo's frown darkened again. "You mean Sai isn't coming down to help you this time?"

Khri looked up at the unconcealed sneer in his voice. "What is going on between you two?" she asked in exasperation and surprise. "I've got an implant that sends a signal if I'm in serious medical trouble. This isn't serious, so Sai isn't coming." She jumped down from the running boards and walked over to the mangled remains of the door. "I'm still trying to figure out what my Second used to persuade you to keep an eye on me," she said as she kicked it forward until it wedged underneath the truck's frame. "The best weapon in that crafty bastard's arsenal is guilt. He wields it as well as ChiChi does her pans."

"We need to back off," Piccolo said brusquely, his sharp nose wrinkling as he changed the subject. "This thing is leaking fuel and could blow up any second."

"That's what I'm counting on," Khri replied, not pressing the topic for the moment. "A good hot fire should keep investigators from figuring out the 'victim' wasn't human. I really don't want to stay here long enough to answer questions, do you?"

"Then let's stop wasting time." Before she could object, Piccolo had snatched her up and was headed for the sky. He hovered above the truck at a safe distance, shifting her weight so one arm curved around her back, the other her knees. "Are you going to clean up the mess or should I?"

"It's my mess. I'll deal with it." _Very soon, you and I are going to have a 'discussion,' Junior. You're starting to take too many liberties with me and its going to stop. _She managed to keep her emotions in check in spite of feeling her face flush. Nothing spoiled a perfectly good blackfire draw better than uncontrolled anger or embarrassment. "Whatever you do, keep your chi as tight as possible without letting us fall." She clutched his armored shoulder with her left hand and extended her right, giving the seething sphere just enough energy to blow up the truck without taking out the valley. Palm out, Khri released it and watched with satisfaction as it slammed into the truck. _Its fuel tank must have been nearly full,_ she thought as she watched the big fireball billow outward and upward. Piccolo took them higher and away from the plume of smoke that coiled into the sky.

Khri felt him staring at her, his expression unreadable. "I think I should take you to Capsule myself. You've wasted enough of the day on that machine of yours."

"What makes you think it was wasted?" She was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. The strength and muscular bulk of the arms beneath her back and legs tapped into feelings of vulnerability, feelings she hadn't experienced in years and didn't miss. "I've got plenty of time in spite of that little incident back there. I also learned that the Tigradi are just as clueless as I am as to why I'm on Earth, which means Eldest has Leonid security working overtime to keep it that way. And that 'machine' you feel such contempt for is the closest I'll ever come to flying on my own." Khri scowled, feeling her cheeks flush even darker as she looked away. She hadn't intended for that little admission to slip out but it was painfully true. Flight wasn't possible for the rare species that used blackfire; the cold emotional control required just couldn't provide enough energy. The freedom of the motorcycle, earthbound as it was, let her feel more in control over her own life than she had in recent memory.

"Khri."

She recognized the tone of his voice as Piccolo said her name. It was the same one he'd used a few days earlier after casually insulting her appearance, then realized what he'd done. Khri knew it was the closest thing to an apology she would ever get from him.

"Khri, all you need to do is ask."

Her eyes returned to his face. _Piccolo, I think I just figured out which weapon Sai used on you. That sneaky bastard had it hidden so well I didn't know he had it! _"You have your own life. I don't want to be a burden."

The big Namek snorted. "Being trapped in a room with Vegeta is a burden. Watching Saiyans eat or listening to Bulma talk about shopping is a burden. You don't qualify."

Eyes widening, Khri nearly gasped at the compliment. His expression was stony and he didn't meet her gaze, but there was no mistaking his honesty in making the offer. Here was a man who wouldn't try to placate, lie or wheedle for political favors. When his dark eyes glanced back at her, she gave him a faint smile. "I'll need to retrieve my knapsack, if its still there."

The skin over Piccolo's nose wrinkled as he flashed her a wicked grin. "Think you can grab it on the fly?"

Khri couldn't hold in that gasp. "Are you serious?"

Piccolo's grip tightened, pulling her closer.

He _was_ serious!

_To Be Continued..._


	12. Party Favors

AN: This chapter is huge; in fact, its probably the biggest one I've ever written. I thought about splitting it but there wasn't a natural pause where I could do it and not lose the rhythm. At least I finished it in time for the weekend!

I really hope this chapter makes sense, especially the dialogue. It was written through a bad head cold!

* * *

Errant Exile 

Chapter 12:_ "Party Favors"_

* * *

The main complex of the famous – and sometimes infamous, according to neighbors -- Capsule Corporation served three important functions for its hosting city. It acted as the major employer for those who lived nearby, was a huge source of tax revenue, and was the city's number one direction-finder. Khri found out about the last part when she'd stopped for a small dinner and a stretch at a café just outside the city limits. "Look for the big white dome," the young waitress had told her when she asked for directions. "You can't miss it. If you do, just follow any strange noises you might hear. There's always something weird happening around that place." 

The city streets had begun to fall into shadow by the time Khri reached her hotel. She'd specifically reserved a room with a balcony on the highest floor, knowing Piccolo would take advantage of the open invitation if he wanted to. He had brought her as far as the distant outskirts of the city before setting her down in a well-lit alley. Her first impulse had been to be polite, but the look on his face had discouraged her from inviting him to the hotel. _I really don't want a repeat of the elevator situation either,_ she conceded as she watched him disappear into the sky. He'd also gotten a little too familiar in the handful of days since her arrival on Earth and she thought it best to have a bit of distance between them, at least until the party.

Khri spent the next morning and most of the afternoon exploring the city. As much as she hated shopping on Earth just as much as any other world, she wanted to replace her abused sweater. 'The party is casual, so wear what is comfortable_,'_ Bulma had said. 'Comfortable' for Khri was hard to find by looking in store windows, but she did find a kindly manager who took pity on her. A handful of hours and several hundred zeni later she was in the possession of an outfit suitable for the party, as well as a new sweater and jacket. After she showered she re-taped the burn on her arm, noting with satisfaction it was healing nicely and probably wouldn't add to her collection of scars. Shrugging on the jacket she left the hotel, unencapsulated the motorcycle and made her way to Capsule Corporation.

The main dome was hard to miss. It towered over smaller buildings that had cropped up as the company had thrived and expanded. The security guard at the gate accepted her identification, grinned in approval of the Highlander and opened the gates for her. "Ms. Briefs is expecting you. Turn right when the road forks and follow it back. You can't miss the balloons."

The road to the main complex was quiet and Khri passed no other vehicles. _It must be nice to have designated days off,_ she thought as she passed a huge clump of multicolored balloons. They'd been tied to a large sign that read "This Way!" and pointed around the side of the dome. Khri pulled into a small lot where a handful of catering vans were unloading under the direction of a slender, blue-haired woman. Encapsulating the bike and stashing it in a pocket, she walked toward what looked like a major dressing-down already in progress.

"No, I distinctly ordered yellowfin and salmon, not just the yellowfin!" the blue-haired woman barked at an overstuffed man in a white uniform. "With all the business I send your way, I expect this order to be right the first time, not the second or the third!"

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Briefs!" the caterer gushed. "We'll have this fixed right away! Just let me make a quick call . . . " He frantically whipped out a phone and punched the keypad with his sausage-thick fingers, freeing Bulma to turn her wrath elsewhere. "Has the dessert caterer arrived yet?" she barked at a tall, balding man in a waiter's uniform.

"Yes, Ms. Briefs! They're getting ready to unload right now."

Bulma sighed and brushed an unseen speck of lint from her vivid red dress. "At least something is going right today." Her big, blue eyes brightened the moment she saw her visitor. "Ah! You must be Khri! I've been expecting you! I'm so happy you decided to come!"

Khri was surprised at Bulma's generous welcome and willing sincerity. Most parties she had been required to attend had been extremely formal political affairs, with the host more often than not expressing open hostility at her presence. "I'd like to thank you for the invitation, Ms. Briefs," she said formally.

Bulma winked at her. "Dear, only my staff and employees call me 'Ms. Briefs.' Please just call me Bulma. I'm afraid Vegeta refuses to tell me anything about you, so if I ask you a lot of questions, that's why." She glanced at her watch. "We've got just enough time for a quick tour of the facility! I think the caterers can handle the rest of this on their own, at least I hope so. I'll just call Trunks and let him know you're here."

One quick call and a few moments later Trunks arrived, whipping a large, hovering golf cart around the corner. He broke into a grin and waved as he pulled up. "Hi, Khri, its great to see you again! Looks like you've already met Mom."

"I have," Khri said, returning the smile. "And I can definitely see the family resemblance!"

Bulma gestured for her to climb into the padded back seat. "Beauty is more than skin deep in the Briefs family," she said, sliding into the seat next to Khri and tucking a strand of her soft, blue hair behind her ear. "Trunks is well on his way to being a fine scientist and has made more than his share of contributions to the company."

Trunks blushed, but he smiled with pride. "I've had a few successes."

"You'd have even more if your father would quit interfering!" Bulma snapped. "You'd think he was training to defend the Earth all over again. Not that it's a bad thing but he wants Trunks to train too, and that takes time away from his classes."

"Mom, I'm doing just fine. Besides, sparring with Dad is a great way to relieve stress." He grinned back at his passengers as he pulled out of the lot, leaving the catering chaos behind. "I just pretend he's my advanced quantum mechanics professor."

The tour of Capsule was more entertaining and informative than Khri had expected. Trunks and Bulma enthusiastically showed her the labs where their latest products were under development, the testing area and, to her delight, the studio where Trunks had first sketched the bike that came to be the Highlander. Their playful banter back and forth had Khri laughing softly herself as she felt more at ease. Before the end of the tour she cautiously inquired about a contract for capsule technology, but Bulma had shaken her head. "I'd like to keep all our discoveries and products for civilian use only," she said. "Its bad enough we've got all these super-powered fighters running around, bashing each other's brains out, without giving the military any ideas."

"I've been curious about that," Khri said, leaning forward in the seat as Trunks steered the cart back towards the main dome. "Earth hasn't had any significant trouble for several years now. I know for a fact that one of the hardest things for a seasoned warrior to deal with is peacetime. How are the fighters coping with all this boredom?"

Bulma smiled again, giving her earring a tug. "Well, you already know this, but Goku is busy training Uub and Vegeta pounds himself into pulp in the gravity room on a daily basis. Kuririn is more of a family man these days and has mostly retired from fighting. Now and then his wife, Eighteen, will enter a tournament for the prize money. Tien, Chaozu and Yamcha all still train but I don't hear from them too often. I'm glad to say most of the kids are pursuing successful careers. Gohan teaches at Satan University, where his younger brother Goten is a student."

"What about Piccolo?" Khri prodded as Trunks pulled into the parking lot and brought the cart to a stop.

"Oh, he still spars with the boys on occasion but he pretty much keeps to himself." Bulma finger-combed her hair and stepped out, holding the door for Khri. "ChiChi says he visits Gohan from time to time, but with Gohan's busy schedule it can't be that often."

Khri digested this bit of information as she followed the Briefs through a set of double doors into a small lobby. Nameks weren't known to be solitary; in fact they were quite the opposite. They had their squabbles on occasion, just as any other species did, but Nameks were some of the most socially well-adjusted creatures she'd ever met. An almost forgotten spike of guilt poked her. _I guess Earth was a difficult place for a little Namek to grow up on his own,_ she thought sadly. _Under the circumstances he's probably done very well._ She decided not to pry any further but found herself wondering, _if Piccolo is such a loner, watching out for me might be very inconvenient for him. Maybe I should forcibly cut him free..._

"Hey, why the sad face?" Trunks had dropped back to walk beside her. Bulma had rushed back inside, no doubt to make sure the caterers were earning their pay. "Cheer up! Mom's parties are almost as popular as her scientific achievements! Come on," he said, offering her his arm. "I'll get you something to drink and make all the introductions." He led her through the double doors and smiled at her surprised gasp.

The dome didn't house offices, labs or even an auditorium. The entire structure enclosed a small park complete with trees, flowers, fountains and a thick lawn made of real grass. The inside surface of dome itself simulated the rich blue of the afternoon sky. Hidden fans stirred a faint breeze that carryied the delicious smells coming from a huge grill. An expansive patio tiled in white marble had been framed by unlit torches and lanterns. Tables had been lined up along one side and were in the process of being piled high with food. Smaller tables and padded chairs dotted both the patio and the lawn, where a few of the first arrivals had gathered.

A young man who was the spitting image of Goku waved. "Hey, Trunks! Is that your new friend? Bring her over here before you get her a drink!"

Khri didn't bother to hold back a smile as Trunks led her over to the little group. It had been a long time since she'd been to a party, and never to one where her reputation didn't arrive first. She felt totally out of place and it was wonderful. She wouldn't have to read the potential politics into every single phrase or compliment. It might be possible to actually enjoy herself for a change!

One by one she was introduced to unfamiliar faces with familiar names. First there was Goten who's awkward grin was infectious as he shook her hand. Khri had to fight not to blink in alarm when Trunks introduced her to a tall fighter named Tenshinhan. _I remember that name! He was a contestant at the tournament where I met Junior! Could any of the fighters here have seen me there, and would they remember me after all this time? _Tenshinan, or 'Tien' as he called himself, bowed slightly, took her hand and kissed the back of it. This time she fought against the urge to bristle at the physical contact and won.

The tiny man floating next to Tien was Chaozu. He greeted her warmly with a bow which Khri returned, Leonid style. "This is Yamcha and Puar," Trunks said, indicating another fighter who had just been ushered into the dome. His face was scarred and led Khri to believe the man had spent most of his life fighting on the streets rather than in an arena. Like Tien, he kissed the back of her hand while trying to hold her eyes. _I hope they don't make a practice of this,_ she squirmed internally, hoping her smile didn't look too forced. The cat was content to simply say a friendly "hello" and grin as only felines can.

Khri was granted a reprieve from all the introductions thanks to Trunks. He led her to the large bar that had been set up across from the patio. "It looks like your mother is preparing for a large crowd," she said as the bartender filled her request for iced tea.

"Yep, and she couldn't be happier." Trunks waved another hello in the direction of the doors at the latest arrivals. "Thanks to you, everyone she contacted showed up."

She swallowed her mouthful of tea in a gulp. "Me?"

"ChiChi told Mom about the night you showed up on her doorstep, including what Goku told her about your...er...landing. She tried to prod Dad into filling in the details but he wouldn't budge. Mom then got on the phone to everyone she'd sent an invitation to and let them know you were going to be here. Oh, here's Gohan and Videl!"

Before Khri could decide whether or not she liked being used as bait, Trunks was leading her by the elbow over to a young couple that had just been ushered in by ChiChi. A little girl, no doubt their daughter, looked around distractedly as she held her father's hand. "Gohan and Videl, I'd like you to meet Khri."

Dark brown eyes sparkled as Gohan shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said warmly. "We've been told a little bit about you, and I hope you don't mind that we wanted to meet you in person."

"Of course I don't mind," she replied as graciously as she could. _Time for some quick thinking. This is Piccolo's friend and knows our history, but how much of it did Gohan tell his wife? This party is turning out more political than I thought!_ "It's an honor to meet you," she said formally. "If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them as best I can."

Videl winked one blue eye at Khri. "Gohan, I'm going to see if Bulma and ChiChi need a second pair of hands in the kitchen. It was nice meeting you, Khri. I'm sure we'll talk later," she added, giving her arm a quick squeeze before she headed for the kitchens.

"I need to start circulating, and I especially need to keep an eye out for Master Roshi," Trunks said, sharing a meaningful glance at Gohan. "I'll catch up with you two later." He gave them a parting smile and headed back towards the doors.

Khri made a quick check to make sure the other guests were out of earshot, then turned and smiled at Gohan. "I'm glad we've got a moment to speak," she said softly, setting her glass down on a nearby table. "I want to thank you for prompting Piccolo to talk to me quickly after I arrived. He was acting so erratically when we met that I couldn't help but be suspicious. After that it was just a matter of time before I figured out who he was. I think your intervention saved us both from a lot of grief and embarrassment."

"I'm glad you were able to talk things over. I still can't believe you knew Piccolo when he was a child," Gohan said in undisguised awe, gesturing to a small path that led away from the patio. "He confessed he wasn't on his best behavior when you met and you were threatening to...ah..."

She looked at him in surprise. "He told you that?"

"Uh huh. He also told me he bit you and was proud of it at the time." Gohan smiled ruefully. "He feels pretty badly about it now."

Khri took a deep breath and let it out slowly as they walked. "Gohan, I never would have hit him. He was just a child! It's true, he was a rotten little nuisance, but I never wanted anything but the best for him. When I was ordered back to Earth, I planned on making it a priority to find out what happened to him. I...I couldn't let it go." Khri shook her head and wondered, _how can I still feel so guilty about this?_

Gohan shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "Khri, I'll be honest with you. I don't know a lot about Piccolo's childhood because he won't discuss it, but he's dropped hints that it was rough. He and my father were the worst of enemies for years but that all changed when a Saiyan – my father's brother, Raditz – came to Earth. It was when Dad and Piccolo teamed up to defeat him that everything changed, especially Piccolo himself. You'll probably hear stories about some of the things he did before that time..."

"If you're trying to warn me that Piccolo wasn't the model of perfection you don't have to worry, Gohan." When he looked at her curiously she added, "I've done some pretty horrific things myself. The fact that I did them to end a war or save lives doesn't make them any less terrible or my reasons any more noble." She realized she'd clasped her hands behind her back out of habit, so she crossed her arms instead. "There are thousands of stories about noble people that fall to corruption. The fact that he was able to turn around gives me hope."

Khri walked silently beside Gohan as the path led past a small flowerbed. Platter-sized flowers in varying shades of blue fluttered in the gentle breeze, releasing a delicate perfume. "Has Piccolo told you how we became friends?" he asked.

"We never got that far in our conversations, but I'd like to know." She smiled wryly at the change in subject. "Since he's not exactly the outgoing type, the circumstances must have been extreme."

Gohan laughed. "That's an understatement! I was just four years old, not much younger than my daughter, Pan. I'd been knocked out by Raditz during the battle and Piccolo threw me in a lake to wake me up. When I stopped sputtering and saw what I thought to be a tall, green-skinned, fanged monster snarling down at me I totally panicked."

Khri had stopped walking and stared at the Gohan. There was no shadow of remembered fear on his face; in fact it was quite the opposite. "What happened then?"

"That's when my training began." He grinned. "Piccolo insisted I had power, but it wasn't until he threw me into the side of a mountain that I believed him. When I got mad and blew it up before I smashed into it, I was convinced."

She blinked a few times and shook her head. "Unorthodox training, to say the least. But it looks like you survived it."

"It came in handy many times over the years. I trained with both Dad and Piccolo until I finished college." He shrugged, and Khri could hear the regret in his voice. "Things are peaceful now and life is good, but there are times I miss the old days. I'll spar with Piccolo on occasion but its mostly for old times' sake. I haven't taken it seriously in a long time. I'm afraid its become little more than an excuse to see him and let him know he hasn't been forgotten."

The urge to ask more questions gnawed at Khri, making her feel torn between wanting to know more about Piccolo and respecting his privacy. She'd been the victim of prying herself once too often. Opinions were made prematurely because of it or, worse yet, it spawned dangerous rumors. There was, however, a bit of information she could share that would give Gohan another reason to respect his friend. "Piccolo has been acting as a silent bodyguard for me since our talk," she said, leaving out her suspicions of Sai's involvement. "There's been more than one instance in which he's been a big help. He's been as respectful as possible when it comes to my privacy but I worry that I'm taking up too much of his time. He had a life before I came to Earth and I certainly don't want to disrupt it."

Gohan arched one brow in surprise. "Are you kidding? Khri, Piccolo hasn't had much to do for several years other than meditate, train and perform an occasional act of heroism when its needed. Honestly, I think he's _bored._ There's nobody he can really spar with other than Dad, but he's gone most of the time and Piccolo and Vegeta hate each other. There's always the tournaments, but the ones with any real competition are few and far between. Playing bodyguard might just be giving him a purpose."

Khri stared at Gohan in confusion. His answer wasn't the one she had expected. She started to ask if he was absolutely certain, but if anyone had a chance of knowing Piccolo it had to be Gohan. _If Sai persuaded Piccolo to watch out for me even though they can't stand each other, it might be a good idea to keep the Namek around. They're both in a position to hear and see things I can't. _"Just don't ask me to act like a maiden in distress," she finally said as they headed back to the patio. "He's seen me fight already and I could never pull it off. I'm not the damsel type."

The half-Saiyan's eyes twinkled as he grinned back at her. "I don't think the 'damsel' part is what snagged his attention."

Puzzled, she was about to ask what he meant when Gohan suddenly waved. "Hey! Kuririn and Eighteen, over here!"

Khri found herself falling back on old political skills as she was introduced to the newest guests. Kuririn's smile was genuine when he shook her hand, and she met Eighteen's cool but polite greeting with locked eyes._ She seems like an outsider who's managed to fit in. If I'm going to be on Earth for a while, she may be someone I should get to know better._ Their daughter, Marron, gave her a quick hello before rushing off in search of friends. When Khri turned to greet the next arrival she had to lock a smile on her face. _Earth is more...diverse...than I ever realized_, she marveled, shaking the mittened hand of a big pink blob with a persistent smile. "Oooh, new pretty lady!" it cooed at her with the sing-song voice of a child.

An older man Gohan introduced as his father-in-law came to her rescue. "Buu really likes you!" Mr. Satan chuckled as he turned the creature in the direction of the food tables. "We'll have a good talk later, I promise! I've got some great stories I'm sure you'll want to hear!" he shouted, keeping a firm hold on Buu's elbow and nearly being dragged away in the process.

Gohan flashed her a sympathetic grin. "I have to warn you, don't get yourself trapped in a conversation with Videl's dad. Oh, he's safe enough and he means well, but the stories he tells have very little to do with reality."

"Thanks for the warning," she said. "I'm curious about Buu, though. I'm fairly well traveled, Gohan, but I've never seen anything like him!"

Gohan laughed, but Khri could hear a subtle undertone of faded bitterness. "Let's just say he's not from Earth, either. Everyone here knows the whole story but a lot of them don't like to talk about it. Piccolo would be a good one to ask about it when you've got a lot of time to kill. Ah, here's Piccolo and Dende now!"

Dende's smile was broad as Trunks happily greeted him at the doors. Piccolo's was polite but restrained. He looked around warily until he caught sight of Gohan and Khri standing together and visibly relaxed. He nudged Dende to get his attention. The younger Namek's smile grew even wider as he waved. Khri's own expression brightened as she waited for them to walk the short distance down the little path.

Both Nameks came to an abrupt stop, their expressions of welcome recognition melting into sheer mortification. Dende's eyes rounded and Piccolo suddenly clenched his fists. "Khri, look behind you...!"

"Roshi, stop!" several voices shouted at once.

The feeling of two hands gripping her backside threw Khri's brain into a state of shock, but not her reflexes. "Who dares...?" she hissed as she snapped around. Her fist buried itself the brightly-colored shirt of the short, old man behind her and effortlessly jerked him into the air. She got a brief glimpse of his shocked expression before her kick slammed into his chest and rocketed him backward. He hit the wall between the dome and the kitchen, went completely through it and disappeared in a cloud of broken plaster and dust.

Gohan, Kuririn, Eighteen and several other party guests hurried over to look through the hole as Khri lowered her fists and backed away. Her rage evaporated as she realized the man was not only small, but he bore all the signs of great physical age. "I...I just attacked an Elder!" she gasped. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize...!"

Bits and pieces of the wall clattered on the patio tile as Eighteen straightened and looked at Khri. "You got him through two walls," she said, honest respect in her cool eyes. "I'm impressed!"

"I told him to behave himself before we got here," Kuririn said irritably. "I guess I should have kept a better eye on him. Let me through," he sighed as he climbed through the hole. "I'll check on him..."

"I am so sorry," Khri whispered to nobody in particular, horrified at what she'd done. "I can't believe I just assaulted an Elder! I'll...I'll go see if he's all right..." She turned and was headed for the kitchen when Bulma suddenly appeared and stopped her.

"Don't you dare apologize to that old pervert!" she said sharply, hands on her hips. A small army of women flanked her on either side. ChiChi clutched a long metal spoon in one hand, holding it like a sword. Videl and Eighteen had taken up positions on either side of Bulma, and all the women wore identical expressions of anger and disgust. "Master Roshi may be a brilliant martial arts teacher, but he's also a dirty-minded old man who can't keep his hands to himself!"

Confused, Khri looked at each woman in turn. "Are you telling me he's...touched...all of you?"

"On a regular basis." ChiChi's grip on the spoon tightened.

"And you let this continue?"

"Certainly not!" Videl exclaimed. "Over the years its almost become a game. Roshi tries to cop a feel, we flatten him and wait for it to happen again. Sometimes it takes a while but he always comes back for more." She looked at Eighteen. "I remember Bulma telling me you once almost threw him out the side of her airship. He left you alone for nearly a year after that, right?"

"Right." Eighteen's smile was sly. "I thought leaving a Roshi-shaped pocket in the sheet metal would have knocked some sense into the old man, but it was short lived."

Bulma shook her finger at Khri. "See? If you go and apologize you'll give the old lecher the delusion that we _all_ should apologize when we whack him!"

Khri couldn't keep her eyes from widening. "And your husbands don't object?"

"To us beating Roshi?" ChiChi laughed. "They think its funny and know we can take care of ourselves. It's a game to them, too."

More shards of the shattered wall fell on the patio as Kuririn hauled their aged instructor back out the hole. Roshi's sunglasses dangled from one ear, both sleeves were ripped and a large lump was forming on the back of his head. "I guess Bulma...and the rest of you girls...got to her already!" he wheezed, huffing dust out of his thick moustache.

_What kind of crazy planet is this, where Elders act like adolescent boys?_ Khri pulled the shreds of her dignity together, ignored the blood running to her face, clenched her fists and glared down at the little man. He straightened his sunglasses and grinned up at her. _Well, I can't kill him, and the horny little bastard obviously isn't intimidated by women...I seem to be low on choices! _

Putting on her most frosty smile, Khri leaned over to stand nose-to-nose with Roshi. Her left hand reached inside her jacket. Behind his scuffed glasses she could see his eyes dropping to her chest which, thankfully, was well protected by her sweater. "I'd like to show you something, little master," she said softly. Ignoring the chorus of gasps around her she powered up her _diacha_ right under his nose, shaping the blade into a long, straight dagger. Roshi squeaked but didn't step back. "If you'd like to keep your head, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself." She quenched the blade, returned her _diacha_ to the inside of her jacket and calmly walked away. _I can't believe I just threatened an Elder for the second time in a day...I hope Eldest never hears about this or he'll..._

"Khri, wait up."

Eighteen ran the few steps that separated them. "I just wanted to say congratulations on surviving Roshi's grope. You're one of us now." She gestured to the old man who was now surrounded by three very angry wives. His ears were turning red and the handle of ChiChi's spoon was bent.

"How long do you think it will be?" Khri asked the shorter blonde.

"Hmmm...I'd say you just bought yourself six months."

"That's all?"

"I'm afraid so. He's persistent." Eighteen looked up and smiled softly. "I'll see you later. Right now there's somebody waiting to talk to you."

Khri watched the small blonde walk away, then turned to greet Piccolo and Dende. "Thanks for trying to warn me about Roshi," she said, feeling the blood burn in her cheeks.

"I'm just sorry we were too late. It looks like you handled him well, though." Dende's eyes widened a bit and his face grew serious. "Khri, Piccolo was telling me about what happened on your way here. Are you sure it's a good idea to be traveling alone?"

"I wasn't alone, Dende." _I'm going to have to word this carefully. I don't want to give Piccolo the impression I'm resentful of him._ "It seems I have a guardian who's confident enough in my skills that he's willing to let situations get a little hot before getting involved." She glanced up at Piccolo out of the corner of her eye and was gratified to see his mouth curl in a small smile. "Please don't worry about it, Dende. I'm not dismissing the threat, but they're being damned sloppy and aren't taking me seriously." Her jaw tightened. There was another possibility, but it wasn't one she was going to give voice to just yet. _If the Tigradi are spread thin because they're shuffling troops and resources, they might not have the fighters on hand to really deal with me..._

"Khri?"

"It's all right, Piccolo. Just...thinking." She noticed her answer didn't ease his concerned scowl.

"I never thought I'd say this about a female," Piccolo growled, "but you think too much and don't talk enough."

Khri couldn't help but smile at him. "I'll take that as a compliment." Her grin faded as she remembered her last conversation with Earth's guardian. "Dende, did you get a chance to talk to Muri about Eudori?"

"I did, right after you left. Its not much, but Muri did remember Guru mentioning it once." Dende's antennae wilted in sadness. "It was many years ago during a particularly dry season. The young plants were dying from drought in spite of every effort to keep them alive. One day three of my older brothers were out looking for seedlings that might have survived and were caught in a rockslide. After their burial Guru was very depressed. Muri remembers him saying, 'of all my regrets, I wish we'd never alienated the Eudori. We could use the help now'."

Khri gasped. "Dende, are you absolutely certain that's what Guru said?"

"I'm positive. Muri remembered it because he wanted to ask what Guru meant. He waited because he didn't want to upset Guru even more. Eventually he forgot about it and once Guru died, he lost the opportunity."

Khri fought the urge to give the young Namek a hug. "Dende, I've never heard the term used that way before. If Guru's statement is exactly how Muri remembers it to be, then it sounds like he's referring to a _people._ This is the first new lead I've had in years! Thank you, Dende, and be sure to thank Muri for me!"

"Hey, Dende!" Gohan was waving from a grassy spot where Kuririn and a battered Roshi were setting up a card table. "We need another hand for poker. Do you want to play?"

"Sure, Gohan, I'll be right there!" Dende called back. "Khri and Piccolo, do you mind if we talk later? I don't get to play that often anymore, and..."

"Go!" Piccolo waved him off. "Win back that senzu from Roshi while you're at it. The next batch won't be ready for at least two weeks."

As Dende headed towards the card table, Khri could almost feel Piccolo's tension. "I...see you talked with Gohan," he said quietly.

"I did, and you can relax. We didn't discuss anything you hadn't already told him." Khri watched his face carefully and decided to be generous. "He's very fond of you, you know."

The hint of a blush crossed Piccolo's cheeks, but there was also a hint of pride. "He was a good kid. He might be an adult now and I'm glad to have him as a friend, but its hard not to look at him sometimes and remember a whiny, snot-nosed little brat who would rather stick his nose in a book than develop his real talent."

"I can understand that." Khri watched as Gohan took a seat opposite of Dende, leaving Kuririn to deal with Roshi. "When the memory of a certain child burns itself into your mind and heart, its hard to see the adult they've become and not remember the child." Khri looked up into his hardened features and let the fondness of her own memory leak into her smile. "And be proud," she added.

Piccolo's face was impassive but his eyes were focused on hers. _Uh oh, I may have pushed that too far,_ Khri thought. She began to scramble for words, any words, that would reassure him she didn't think of him as a child when a warning itch flared on the back of her neck. She focused on the far side of the patio where a lone figure was leaning against the wall, strangulating the neck of a beer bottle as he glared at her. "If you want everyone but Gohan to think we don't know each other, I should step away," she said softly, noticing that Piccolo's dark eyes had also spotted the problem. "You know where to find me if you want to talk later." Khri turned away.

"On the open road, putting innocents in harm's way because you're too damn proud to accept help?" he growled.

Khri's eyes narrowed as she glared back at him over her shoulder. "I may have deserved that," she said calmly, "but we'll have to discuss it later, if you wish. Right now I need to give Vegeta an opportunity to yell at me before he blows up."

Letting herself slip back into her Battle Commander personae, Khri expected Piccolo to grab her arm or try and stop her but it didn't happen. _Maybe I shocked him,_ she thought. _It's not every day a person willingly puts themselves in the sights of an angry Saiyan._ Shoulders squared, she walked over to the wall and casually leaned against it, making sure to leave several feet between herself and the fuming warrior.

Bottle in one hand and the other knotted into a fist at his side, Vegeta didn't move or even look at Khri as she folded her arms and crossed one ankle over the other. It was hard to keep her nose from twitching at the scent of burned sugar. "Leonid," he sneered in greeting, raising the bottle to his lips.

She nodded respectfully, sparing a glance at the shouting match that had erupted between Roshi and Kuririn. They'd overturned the table, sending cards flying everywhere, and Roshi was about to end up with another lump on his head. "Your Highness."

Vegeta nearly choked on the mouthful of lager. He recovered quickly and glowered up at her. "So. You figured it out. I was wondering if you had the brains to do it."

"It wasn't difficult," she answered quietly. "You are the mirror image of your father, with or without the beard. Even if I hadn't known your name it wouldn't have me taken long to think it through." Her voice hardened and she stared down at him. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm not sympathetic for the loss of Planet Vegeta. I witnessed the damage your Oozaru forms inflicted on countless planets."

"Feh. It was their own fault." He took another drink. "If they hadn't resisted they wouldn't have suffered. It was that simple."

Khri wondered just how far she could push him. He oozed raw power and she didn't have to be a chi user to feel it. _Its probably what keeps his hair standing on end._ "Now that Freeza and his father are gone, some of those worlds are starting to recover. I only hope they get the chance to do so before another tyrant comes along." She cocked her head slightly. "I will admit that finding you here surprised me. I never would have believed a Saiyan prince could settle into domestic life on a world like Earth willingly."

"What makes you think I've settled into anything, Leonid?" he snapped back. "I'm here because its convenient at this moment, nothing more."

"I stand corrected." Khri gave him another respectful nod. "Your mate, Bulma, told me that you train in a heavy gravity chamber almost nonstop. I seem to remember hearing that Saiyans like to be prepared for battle at all times."

"Unlike other species in the galaxy." Vegeta bolted down the rest of the beer. "Oh, don't worry, Leonid. I don't have any plans on resurrecting the Empire anytime soon." He snorted. "Not that I could, with the likes of that peace-loving Kakarrot and his two brats being the only other Saiyans around."

"A fact for which the galaxy is extremely grateful."

Vegeta jumped to his feet, the bottle in his fist finally succumbing to his anger. He ignored the blood trickling through his fingers as he took the few steps separating them. Khri refused to flinch, using the long ago memories of devastated cities, continents and whole worlds to buoy her determination. Chi blindness didn't prevent her from feeling the static charge of Vegeta's flaring temper. "Who the hell do you think you are to insult me?" he seethed.

"I told you who I am. Whether or not you believe me is your problem." She raised one eyebrow. "Would it surprise you to know I was at your father's coronation?"

"What?" Vegeta took a half step backward in surprise. "Is this another lie?"

_Caught you off guard, didn't I, little prince?_ "I don't lie. Yes, I was at your father's ascension ceremony on your home world. I was one of those faceless political attendees loitering in the back of the hall, forced to attend because no one else wanted the job. Your father was just a boy at the time, but he carried himself with true Saiyan pride."

That day had been one Khri had met with reluctance and a rare case of nervousness. Leonids and Saiyans had been aware of each other for years but this was the first political invitation either side had extended. Her Clan was aware of the savagery of the Saiyan Empire and the risks of drawing their attention, either negative or positive. One after the other her Elders had declined the assignment until she, as perpetual Youngest, got stuck with it. She was waiting for her promotion to Battle Commander to be finalized, so this was a prime opportunity for her to really screw things up and have her commission go down in flames. Sai had gone with her and between the two of them they'd turned the trip into a reconnaissance mission. They had been able to bring home a lot of useful information, such as making sure any future colony worlds never had a moon. Her promotion had come through the following week.

Khri was close enough she could physically feel Vegeta's chi fade as curiosity took the place of his anger. His face was still locked in a frown but uncertainty flickered in his eyes. She used the moment to stand up and unfold her arms, having proven the point she didn't intimidate easily. "I don't know if any recordings of the ceremony survived Freeza's wrath. Perhaps you saw them at a later date before your home world was destroyed. I thought you would like to know at least one witness to the event was still alive."

Vegeta finally looked away and grunted. "It doesn't matter. I was raised to be a prince and someday a king, not an outcast on this weakling world."

"Weakling? Are you so sure of that, Highness?" She looked over at the patio, where most of the other guests were eating. The translucent dome had darkened as the afternoon faded to evening, and a clever lighting system bathed the ceiling with a convincing projection of stars and a thin crescent moon. Tiny lights twinkled in the trees and Bulma was happily lighting the torches around the patio. "If all the reports I've read are correct, this world has experienced more than its share of devastation at the hands of others. Over and over they manage to survive and go on." She watched as Trunks and Goten playfully sparred on the lawn, only to get yelled at by ChiChi for knocking over the furniture. "In spite of all that destruction, life can and does continue." A sudden chill ran down her spine. _Why do I feel what I've said is going to come back and haunt me?_

Vegeta calmly wiped his bloody hand on his shirt, the red splotches blending with the tropical print. "It looks as if the Namek isn't concerned about you anymore," he said, gesturing with his thumb.

Piccolo and Gohan were engaged in a conversation with Tien and Yamcha. If they'd felt Vegeta's chi surge and then dissipate there was no sign, at least until Gohan glanced in their direction. She nodded at his concerned look. He grinned back and resumed his discussion. "Piccolo thought he recognized me from someplace," Khri said truthfully. "We simply talked about it and cleared up the misunderstanding."

"You might want to watch out for him, Leonid." Vegeta's voice was laced with malice. "He used to be the Demon King. He wanted to rule the Earth and turn it into an extension of Hell. Did he tell you that?"

Khri watched Vegeta's smirk for several moments. He'd been unable to provoke the reaction he'd been hoping for from her and was playing one of his last cards. She almost chuckled. So, 'Junior' had been honest all those years ago when he'd insisted he would be the Demon King one day. "By your description, Your Highness, he 'used to be.' It seems both Saiyan princes and Namekian demon kings can have a change of heart." She turned to leave when Vegeta stopped her.

"One last question. My father's coronation was almost a century ago. Is it true what they say about Leonid life spans?"

She was mildly surprised; this was the first time anyone on Earth had asked about her age, even in an indirect manner. She'd been expecting it sooner. "I guess that would depend on what 'they' say, Your Highness. We're definitely not immortal." She bowed deeply and walked away.

Suddenly feeling very thirsty and emotionally drained, Khri was headed for the bar when Trunks caught up with her. "I saw you talking with Dad," he said. His fair skin was paler than usual in the evening light. "He powered up like he was about to go Super Saiyan! We know you two got off to a rocky start but I never thought he'd go on the offensive. Are you all right? You had us all scared!"

_Super Saiyan? What the hell is a Super Saiyan?_ "I'm fine, Trunks. We traded a few insults, but most of it was nothing more than rehashing old history. I think we reached an unspoken truce, at least for the moment."

Trunks sagged in relief. "Phew. Before everyone gangs up on you, I'll let Gohan and Kuririn know and they'll spread the word." He looked up at the approaching figure and cringed. "Uh oh...here comes Piccolo and he's not happy. Hope you don't mind, but I think you should be the one to talk to him!"

Khri watched in confusion as Trunks raced off. "All I did was talk to Vegeta..."

"Which could have been a big mistake."

Piccolo was scowling down at her in genuine anger. "What were you thinking? Vegeta might not have a tail, but the way his chi was powering up it felt as if you were pulling it all the same!"

"Since when am I responsible for what that Saiyan feels?" Khri asked, keeping her voice low in spite of her growing irritation. "If Vegeta didn't have a leash on his temper this planet would have been orbiting the sun in big chunks long ago. If he can't handle a conversation then maybe he should..."

"Maybe you should learn a few things before you start poking your nose where it doesn't belong!" Piccolo snapped. "Listen, kid, if you..."

Khri gasped and took an involuntary step back. She felt as if she'd been slapped; her ears and head started ringing as the Leonid version of adrenaline dumped into her bloodstream. She was dimly aware of Piccolo's face moving from anger to confusion to surprise.

It had been such a long time since Khri had been so deeply insulted and offended she found she had forgotten how to deal with it. She knew she'd lost control to the point of showing fang, and the shame of that lapse only added to her fury. As a last resort she bit down on her tongue and tasted blood. Lips pursed and barely able to hold her angry response back, Khri turned around so fast her braid whacked Piccolo's chest.

"Khri, wait, why are you..."

Ignoring him, Khri walked slowly away. She had never been the type to stomp her feet or march without a command but it took all her self control to keep her stride slow and determined. She took a small path that led towards a large, elaborate fountain she'd seen while talking with Gohan.

Crafted from white marble and decorated with urns of fresh flowers, Khri watched the water in the fountain's azure tiled pool ripple as falling water pattered the surface. A fine mist cooled the air but not enough to make her feel uncomfortable. The edge of the fountain had been sculpted into a wide seat and supplied with waterproof cushions. She listened to the water for a minute and let the soothing noise bring her temper down from a full boil to a simmer. There was no one else nearby and Piccolo thankfully hadn't followed her. At the thought of his name she felt her anger snap again. She sat down on the side of the fountain in disgust, crossing her legs and folding her arms. _How dare he call me such a thing! If I hadn't made a promise I'd give Junior such a dressing-down his ears would burn off his thick skull! If he thinks he's going to get away with such an insult, he's..._

Khri's internal rant stopped when she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps in the grass. She looked up to see a young girl storm around the fountain, glance angrily at her, then sit down on the fountain's edge a few feet away. Like Khri, she sat cross-legged and folded her arms in an angry huff, her dark eyes throwing sparks.

The little girl was the same child who had arrived with Gohan and Videl, no doubt their daughter. Her thick, black hair had the tendency to stand up the same way her grandfather Goku's did. Khri watched her for a few moments, feeling her anger ebb and her curiosity grow. "Why are you mad?" she finally asked the girl.

"All Bra wants to do is play with dolls and Marron won't even talk to me because she's too busy making goo-goo eyes at Uncle Goten!" She scowled even deeper, but Khri could see tears sparkling in her eyes. "Grandma keeps lecturing me on how I should study and not spar with Daddy, and there's nobody here to talk to, and I'm so bored!" Her small fist came up and wiped at the tears. "I hate being little! Bra's younger than I am but because she's taller everybody treats me like I'm the youngest, especially Uncle Goten and Trunks!"

"And they never really listen to you," Khri replied, trying to burn a hole in the grass with her glare.

"Yeah! And they're always telling you to run off and play because you're bothering them!"

"And they always give you the jobs they don't want."

"Yeah! Uncle Goten makes me take out the trash when I'm at Grandma's house, and sometimes I have to wash all the dishes and clear the table when he's supposed to!" The little girl sniffled, then slowly looked up at Khri. "Who are you? I saw you talking to my daddy earlier but I've never seen you before. I'm Pan."

"I'm Khri." She inclined her head politely. "It sounds like you and I have something in common."

Pan edged closer on the seat. "You're the youngest one in your family, aren't you?"

"Yes, Pan." Khri couldn't hold back a bitter smile. "I am Youngest."

"Do you have older brothers and sisters? I don't."

Khri thought about this a long time. The question wasn't easy to answer in a way she thought Pan would understand. "I've got lots of older brothers and sisters, but many of them have died. A lot of them died before I was born."

The distance between them shrank a couple more inches. "That's awful. I'm sorry." Pan relaxed and uncrossed her legs, letting them dangle over the edge of the seat. "How many do you have left?"

Khri watched the little girl's face. "Sixteen have died, so I have thirty-seven left. I have twenty-two brothers and fifteen sisters."

Pan's jaw dropped. "And they're all older than you?"

"All but one." A shard of pain, dulled by time but still holding an edge, poked at Khri's heart. "I had a twin brother who was born after me, but he died a few weeks later. Had he lived, he would have been Youngest. My parents tried to have more children for years but then my mother died. So I'm still Youngest."

Pan's eyes widened in sympathy. "I don't know if I'll have any brothers and sisters, but I'm going to try to be nice to them. I won't be mean because I hate being treated like a baby."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Pan. Do you think you could do something for me?"

"What?"

Khri sighed. "If you do have younger brothers and sisters and they get important jobs or become famous, will you try not to resent them too much? They are, after all, just doing their jobs."

"I'll try," Pan said sincerely. "How long have you been the youngest in your family?"

Keeping her face from appearing too grim wasn't easy. Pan was actually asking her age and that wasn't something she was comfortable discussing with anyone. "Longer than your Grandpa Goku has been alive."

"Wow!" Pan shook her head. "That's an awfully long time to have to sit at the kid's table at family dinners."

Khri couldn't hold back a laugh. "It's not quite that bad, Pan. But I do never seem to get my choice of dessert." _Unless somebody wants a promotion..._

Pan wriggled over until her knee was touching Khri's leg. "You looked awfully mad, too. I saw you talking to Mr. Piccolo. Did he make you mad?"

The idea seemed to upset Pan. Khri guessed it had to be because Piccolo was Gohan's friend and a friend of the family. If Pan had grown up with a tall, green-skinned Namek as part of her life and she admired him, her upset was understandable. "He...called me something that upset me, Pan. Now that I think about it I realize I overreacted and I should apologize. He probably thought I was going to rip his ears off." She chuckled. "I thought about it, too."

"I know Mr. Piccolo says naughty words when he's mad and Grandma yells at him if I'm around, but I've never heard him call anybody a name!"

Khri felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "He called me 'kid.' My siblings use it...differently...than I'm sure Mr. Piccolo meant it."

Pan looked up at her in disbelief. "Is that all? He calls me 'kid' all the time. Trunks and Uncle Goten, too. He's even called Daddy a kid, but that was when they were sparring. He only calls you that if he likes you."

"Really?"

"Really! He's standing right over there, so why don't you go say you're sorry and then come get some dessert?" Pan jumped off the seat. "I'd better go get some chocolate cake before Goten and Trunks eat it all. Bye, Khri! Bye, Mr. Piccolo!"

Khri watched as Pan ran off in the direction of the patio. The dome had darkened to the point where more automated lights were switching on, including ones in the fountain. She turned sideways, letting her fingers trail in the sparkling blue water as a shadow eclipsed the projection of the moon. "How long were you eavesdropping?" Khri asked, flicking drops back into the fountain.

"Long enough to know not to call you 'kid' again." Piccolo sat down beside her at a comfortable distance. His nose wrinkled as the mist wafted across his face.

"It's been a long time since I'd heard that word applied to me," she said. "I'm sorry. I overreacted. I guess its ironic that it took a child to straighten me out."

"Pan has Goku's spirit. She's always cheerful, believes she can do anything, and has all the makings of an excellent fighter." Piccolo stared at the water a long moment before seeming to reach a decision. "I'll make you the same deal you made me. I promise not to call you...that name...again. Agreed"

Khri smiled. "Agreed." She was fighting the urge to scoop a handful of water and splash him just to see him jump when a loud, rhythmic pounding echoed through the dome. "What the hell is that?" she gasped, jumping to her feet.

Piccolo's mouth curled in a snarl. "Its Bulma's idea of music. She insists on ending the party with a dance. Don't be surprised if Trunks comes looking for you."

The noise was hurting Khri's ears; she could only imagine what it was doing to Piccolo's. "Don't tell me it stays this loud!"

The thudding faded, surged briefly and then quieted to a tolerable level. Piccolo sighed and shook his head. "It always starts out that loud, but she's finally figured out that Dende and I will leave immediately if she keeps it like that."

Khri was about to suggest they snag Dende and make a polite exit when the sound of running footfalls made her turn. Trunks and Goten raced down the path, playfully jostling each other, until they stopped at the fountain. "Come on, Khri! You have to dance with us!" Trunks gasped as he gave Goten a shove.

"I'm afraid I don't know any Earth steps," she said apprehensively. "I would just end up tripping you!"

"We'll teach you!" Goten nodded at Piccolo before grabbing Khri's wrist, either ignoring or unaware of her attempt to jerk it back. "Don't worry, we'll watch your back for you..."

"...In case Master Roshi decides to try anything," Trunks finished.

Khri looked back at Piccolo in desperation, but he simply gave her a 'see-I-told-you-so' smirk. Trapped, she let the two boys haul her off in the direction of the patio and the pounding music, leaving Piccolo alone to watch the fake moon creep across the artificial sky.

To Be Continued...

* * *

AN: Just a few final notes for my readers: 

AceofAuthors: Glad you're continuing to enjoy it! Things are just getting wound up...

SexySayainSakura: Um, as to that "tension" thing? Patience! (:::whistling innocently:::)

Dreamwraith: You've hit the nail on the head and understand exactly what I'm trying to do with this story. My challenge is to respect and keep the characters IN character as much as possible, make the relationships work in a realistic manner, have an intelligent and sympathetic OC that fits well into the storyline, and give the reader a good payoff in the end. I think we share the same "rants" regarding Piccolo-based fictions, and I'm doing my best to avoid them! :-)

The next chapter is well underway and has a tentative title of "Bump in the Night." It takes a slightly different twist than...hey! Who put the (#& citrus peel in my iced tea?


	13. Blind Man's Bluff

Errant Exile

Chapter 13:_ "Blind Man's Bluff"_

AN: This was bound to happen, sooner or later.

* * *

The distant clatter of a stylus hitting the table roused Piccolo from his deeply focused state of mental training. _She's finally decided to take a break,_he sighed, opening one eye. 

It had taken less than a day of searching for Piccolo to find the perfect spot for meditating. The tiny clearing nestled in the lush vegetation surrounding Khri's back yard had a clear view of the ocean, but was still within earshot of her living room. Tall palms provided both shade and a pleasant sound when the ocean breeze rustled through the fronds. For the first few nights he felt out of sorts, missing the steady thunder of his favorite waterfall or the near silence of the desert, but he found the crash of the waves on the beach had a rhythm of their own. The scents in the tropics were very different as well; the bright and strange flowers had their own perfume that combined with the pleasant tang of the ocean. Even on the hottest days the continuous breeze through the open windows kept the house comfortable.

The windows were a serious problem that worried Piccolo. Sai and his team had installed clear plastic panels in the frames before leaving Earth but they were flimsy and wouldn't withstand anything larger than a stone thrown at them. After her return from Bulma's party, Sai had informed Khri of a new delay and the team wouldn't be arriving for nearly two weeks. Khri had taken the news calmly but Piccolo made a mental note to stick closer to the house, especially at night. _I'm going to kick Sai's sorry ass when he finally does show up,_he promised himself.

In the handful of days since Bulma's party, Piccolo realized they'd set up an informal routine by unspoken agreement. During the day he varied his schedule, sharing his time between sparring in the desert to the north and meditating outside Khri's house. He kept odd hours except at night where he would patiently wait for the dawn out on her patio, listening for suspicious noises or watching for unnatural lights in the ocean. Storms at night were rare but he'd spent at least one in a comfortable corner of her living room.

When Sai had first suggested – no, _pressured_ – Piccolo into accepting guard duty, he instantly regretted agreeing to such a thing. He spent the better part of the first night on the roof berating himself for his stupid decision and working up a long list of reasons to justify his anger. _She'll start acting like a typical female, want me to tell her where I'm going, want to dictate my schedule, ask all sorts of nosy questions, and she'll interfere with my life!_

He was wrong, on all counts.

Khri didn't admit she knew of the conspiracy, but Piccolo noticed the small favors she did him on a regular basis. Her rear windows were always open except during the fierce tropical storms that occasionally rolled in from the ocean. On those days he found the patio doors were left unlocked. He was free to come and go as he pleased without question and comment except for an occasional "see you later," or "don't let the delivery coming this afternoon disturb you." She made a point of making sure her refrigerator was well stocked with bottles of water for him. It wasn't as good as fresh water from a natural spring but it was always cold and in good supply. By the end of the first week he still couldn't figure out if she accommodated him out of guilt, gratitude, or just natural courtesy. The routine was becoming comfortable until one morning when Goten handed him a flyer just before their sparring session. He realized he'd made more than one mistake at Bulma's party. He took his temper out on Goten, who promised he'd 'train a lot harder' before he left, stumbling for home to nurse his bruises or take a senzu bean.

His first mistake had been a complete accident. He'd never intended to call Khri a 'kid,' and knew he'd screwed up instant it had slipped out. The look on Khri's face before she walked away told him it that a slap on her face would have been less of an insult. It took him a while to come up with an apology but before he could actually make it she surprised him again. She apologized to _him_ for overreacting. _I owe you one, kid,_ Piccolo admitted when he thought of Pan. It was after Trunks and Goten had snagged her for a dance that he made his second mistake. Vegeta, who was beating a hasty retreat from the loud music, had paused long enough to make a few snide remarks. They'd gotten into a loud argument which ended with both of them bruised and Piccolo agreeing to register for the next tournament. He cursed both Vegeta and himself for that bit of stupidity.

The World Tournaments of the past had been infrequent, brutal, and for serious warriors only. Thanks to all the publicity surrounding the Cell Games and Mr. Satan, smaller events had been cropping up that were more flash than fight. There was serious money to be made, the new promoters all bellowed, for any fighter willing to step up to the challenge. Security at Capsule Corporation kept the agents from harassing Vegeta. Goku, Gohan, Goten and Trunks had only gained celebrity status in their Super Saiyan forms so they were able to live relatively normal lives. Piccolo's lack of a permanent address had worked to his benefit, making any self-serving weasel go to extreme lengths to find him. The last one had ended up falling off a cliff trying to hand him a business card. He had rescued the idiot, only having to get angry and terrify the man into leaving him alone.

The upcoming tournament had been altered to 'appeal to a greater audience,' so the publicists claimed. What it really meant was that new gimmicks were being tested, including team fighting, to see how the public liked them before introducing them at the World Tournament itself. Individual style had to take a back seat in favor of 'working together,' a point which infuriated both Piccolo and Vegeta. Goten and Trunks, both of whom had already signed up, didn't seem to mind and were already sparring together. Goten thought his father might compete but wasn't sure the night of the party. Even though Goku's current obsession was getting Uub trained to help protect the Earth he hadn't completely abandoned his family; winning prize money went a long way towards keeping ChiChi's pans safely in the kitchen cupboard.

Piccolo's musings faded when the patio door opened and Khri walked outside. The female lived in thick sweaters in spite of the mild weather, but this one was deep indigo rather than her preferred black. Even the long, heavy robe she wore while eating breakfast each morning was black. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, brushing a strand of hair that had escaped her braid away from her face.

"It's about time you put down that damned computer of yours."

"I wasn't learning anything I didn't already know and decided I needed a break." Khri showed no sign of surprise at the sound of his voice as he walked onto the patio. Once again he'd failed to catch her off guard. The 'damned strange female,' as he thought of her in her most inscrutable moments, never acted in what he thought of as a feminine manner. In light of Bulma and ChiChi's past antics he appreciated that more than he wanted to admit. "I've been going back through all my research to try and find something, anything, that relates to what Dende told me about the Eudori. So far I'm coming up empty handed." She pinched the skin between her eyes and grimaced.

"You've been cooped up in this house too long," Piccolo snorted.

"That's why I'm out here," she said, looking up at him and smiling. "I needed some fresh air to clear my brain." Her smile faded as her gaze turned towards the ocean. "I still don't know why Sai and the techs are bringing down such a big computer, but I could use it right now. I'm hoping its got access to records I can't bring up on the slimpad."

_Sai. I don't care what she says, he's a flunky if I ever saw one._ Piccolo still couldn't pin down the reason why her Second got on his nerves, but just the sound of the man's voice grated on him. Sai was obviously possessive of Khri and resented the loss of unlimited access to her. It didn't take a genius to know he saw Piccolo as a threat, but it was one he seemed willing to tolerate if it kept his Battle Commander safe. Khri, however, seemed confident of her own abilities and did a good job of taking care of herself. If Sai had wanted to leave troops behind she probably would have refused. Piccolo reluctantly had to admit the redheaded officer had been right about one thing; Khri's safety was in question and they both took it seriously whether she did nor not.

"Since I'm taking a break," Khri said abruptly, "I've got a question for you."

There was a note in her tone that made Piccolo suddenly alert. "What?"

She closed the distance between them, her amber eyes staring into his own. "You can sense my shielding, can't you?"

He scowled to hide his discomfort. "What do you mean?"

The Battle Commander was back and she meant business. "Several times since my arrival I've felt something or someone shove at my natural shielding. When it happened the first time, at the Son house, I was half asleep and just assumed I'd been dreaming. The second time, at the hotel, I thought it might have come from a clumsy Tigradi spy. Now I believe I was wrong both times."

He raised one eye ridge. "What makes you think it was me?"

"Coincidence and a hunch. But there's an easy way to find out."

Curious, Piccolo decided to play along. "What did you have in mind?"

Motioning for him to follow, Khri walked down the little path that led to the beach. The early evening breeze was warm and humid, but there was a hint of grey on the horizon where a storm was building. "This should be easy," she said, instructing him to stay in one spot while she stepped out to the water's edge. "All I want you to do is count to ten, then turn in a slow circle with your eyes closed," she shouted above the noise of the surf. "Focus only in the direction you're facing. When you think you've sensed me, stop and open your eyes."

"What is this, some sort of game?"

"Just humor me!"

_Damned, strange female,_Piccolo cursed again. He understood what she was about to do and had to admit it was a clever way to get to the truth. He closed his eyes and began counting to himself, unable to hear her light footsteps in the sand over the roar of the surf. He waited the requested ten counts, then began to turn.

Piccolo was so accustomed to feeling for chi that intentionally focusing _away_ from it proved tricky. The times he'd been able to find Khri had been successful only because he knew her location. This little game of hers was like trying to find Dr. Brief's black cat in a dark room at midnight during a new moon. "This is a waste of time," he growled, knowing he looked foolish and felt even more so. "There's got to be a better way to..."

_Wait...There she is!_

Keeping his eyes closed, Piccolo could both see and feel the darker shadow of Khri's shielding. The more he studied it, the more he realized it was spherical in shape and the surface rippled, not unlike motion of powering chi. He opened his eyes with a grunt, feeling the burn of a headache building behind them.

Khri was standing directly in front of him, having circled around towards the house. The cooling air around her shimmered but there was no visible sign of any shielding. "I thought so," she said in a mild voice that almost hid her tension. "I've got it powered so that anyone able to sense blackfire on this continent could find me ."

The headache was starting to get annoying. "Are we finished with this yet?"

"Almost. I'd like to try it three more times, lowering the power until its below sleep level. I'd like to know if you can still sense it if my shield is dampened."

Piccolo sighed, resisting the urge to rub his forehead. "Let's get this nonsense over with."

Every time Khri lowered the power on her shielding Piccolo was able to find her. The last time had been the most difficult; she'd dropped it below her natural sleeping level, 'a level we don't use unless we're deliberately trying to hide,' Khri explained. It had taken two turns and a lot of straining, which just made both his headache and his temper worse. "Are we finished here?"

Khri frowned in concern as she walked up to him. "I'm sorry, Piccolo," she said, considerate enough to keep her voice low. "If I had been wrong you wouldn't have a headache."

His head snapped up and he glared at her. "You mean you knew this would happen?" He immediately regretted shouting when his head throbbed painfully.

"I suspected it would. Come inside for a while. I've got something that should help you."

Doing his best to ignore the burning sensation inside his skull, Piccolo followed Khri back up the beach to the house. The grey haze on the horizon had churned itself into a pileup of black clouds, blotting out the sun well before dusk. Khri closed the patio door behind him, then closed all the temporary windows. So far they'd held up very well under turbulent weather, but Piccolo knew he'd feel better once they'd been replaced. He took a seat at the counter on one of the new bar stools and buried his head in his hands. The few small noises Khri made told him she had put a kettle on the stove and was preparing tea. He looked up when he heard her leave the kitchen. She quickly returned, carrying a flat black box.

Piccolo watched as Khri set the box on the counter and pried off the lid. Inside was an assortment of small vials, boxes, capsules and packages of what appeared to be tape. "Standard issue safety and emergency triage kit," she explained quietly. She found a clear package containing two small tablets. "These are safe for Nameks and don't have any side effects. They should start to work in about five minutes. Just swallow them whole." She nipped open the package with her fangs, handed him the pills and got a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"These aren't necessary," he growled, then winced when his own voice sent a fresh spike of pain through his head. His weighted turban was starting to feel unusually heavy.

"They certainly are. You've got a nasty barrier headache." She poured the water into a glass and set it down in front of him on the counter. "Those tabs will take care of it quickly and won't hurt you." To his surprise, Khri reached out and gently folded his fingers around the pills. "I've had to trust you. I think you could return the favor at least once, especially since its to your benefit."

Piccolo squinted at her through the pain. Her expression was neither demanding, pleading nor challenging; she simply watched him calmly. He opened his fist and looked down at the tablets. He'd never taken drugs or chemicals of any kind, preferring to let his natural healing ability handle any bumps, scrapes and the occasional limb regeneration. He didn't know what a 'barrier headache' was, but if Khri was correct, now might be a good time do things her way. "Thanks," he muttered. He downed the pills, chasing them with the entire glass of water.

Khri nodded in satisfaction, then turned back to the task of warming the teapot. Sai had warned Piccolo about her cooking but she'd demonstrated she could make tea without setting the house on fire. By the time she poured it into two cups – another new purchase – his headache had disappeared.

"What the hell is a barrier headache?" he asked, sighing with relief and accepting the tea.

Khri circled the counter and sat on another stool beside him. "I don't know if you sensed it, but there's a natural wall, a 'barrier' of sorts, that separates chi from blackfire. Barrier headaches flare up when a blackfire user focuses on a known, powerful chi source and starts poking it to see if they can sense it. The same is true for chi users, as you just found out; prodding at a blackfire shield on high power can give you a very bad headache. We're not sure how the separation came about, but it definitely serves a purpose. Do you remember what happened the night I arrived when Vegeta's chi blast caught mine?"

"I do. The explosion was far too big to have resulted from such low-power attacks."

"That's what happens when blackfire and chi mix. Its noisy, unpredictable and very destructive." She looked directly at him, nose wrinkling in puzzlement. "What I would like to know is how you gained the ability to sense my shielding. Did you get a headache when you first started poking at me?"

Piccolo thought hard. He'd been more than a little stressed the night he spent outside Goku's house, but he didn't remember getting a burning sensation from seeing if he could sense chi from her then. "No. I didn't get one after I'd left your hotel, either."

Khri was silent for a moment. "When I'm asleep, my shielding has a very low power level. When I asked you to look for it the first time, the level was pretty high. Once you found it, I think the backlash was strong enough to spike the headache. The other times just aggravated it."

"Well, its gone now. I wouldn't want to put up with that too often."

"That still doesn't answer the question." Khri leaned on the counter and wrapped her hands around the cooling cup. She suddenly pulled her left one back, tucking her arm under her rib cage. "I've never encountered a chi user who could sense blackfire. I've never heard of it happening. How are you able to do this?"

"I wouldn't know. I didn't know blackfire even existed until you showed up."

The approaching rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning snapped Khri out of her latest thoughtful silence. She gave her head a little shake and left her stool. "Well, you've probably had enough of my questions for the day, so I'll hold them until later. I guess its just something else to add to my research list," she sighed, retrieving her slimpad and stylus from the table where she'd left it earlier.

_I guess I owe her this_, Piccolo thought as he stood up. "You'll have plenty of time for that over the next three days."

Khri paused, arching an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

"I've signed up to compete in the next martial arts tournament which starts in about six weeks. I'll be spending the next few days and nights with Vegeta, Trunks and Goten so we can get this stupid team routine worked out. After that I'll be gone two or three days a week until the damn thing actually happens."

Her eyes sparkled and her grin was unashamedly wicked. "You mean you're going to miss out on Sai's visit? He'll be so disappointed!"

"What? Don't tell me that bastard's changed the time again!"

"He has, but its sooner rather than later. He and the tech team will be arriving the day after tomorrow. In all probability you'll still be off sparring so your paths don't have to cross." She set the slimpad on the counter and under her breath added, "and I won't have to break up a fight."

He pretended not to hear her last remark. "I'll be leaving before dawn tomorrow. I...will be checking on you from time to time, but it will probably be late at night."

Khri picked up the empty cups and set them in the sink. "I'm sure Sai will be relieved to know that," she said as she rinsed the dishes. Drying her hands on a small towel, Piccolo watched her peer through the window over the sink. Torrents of rain streamed down the window and lightning briefly illuminated the shaking trees outside. It hadn't taken long in the tropics to notice the storms usually blew themselves out in less than an hour, leaving the air clean and comfortably cool. "If anything does happen, I'll call Gohan and he can contact you. Agreed?"

"Humph. Agreed." He couldn't hold back a tight smile.

Khri yawned and picked her slimpad up again. "I'm going to finish up a DNA model and then I need some sleep. There is some preliminary work I have to do before Sai shows up, so I'll be busy until then." She turned away and headed towards the bedrooms but stopped long enough to look at him over her shoulder. "I'll see you when I see you, Namek. Good night, and be sure to pound Vegeta for me. Nicely, of course."

Piccolo chuckled to himself. "When I'm done having fun, I'll make sure I leave a few bruises for you."

Watching her disappear down the hall, Piccolo listened to the patter of the slowing rain and the fading thunder. He shook his head in amusement before switching off the kitchen light. _She's a damned strange female...but I think I prefer it that way._

* * *

It was two days later and long past midnight when Piccolo returned to Khri's house. 

A rare late night thunderstorm had crawled its way up the coast, bringing buckets of rain with it. Piccolo snarled up at the latest burst of lightning and got an earful of thunder in reply. He was soaking wet and absolutely furious, but he preferred the storm over clear, starry skies. It was a better outlet for his temper.

Sparring with Goten and Trunks had been almost a complete waste of time. Their antics and refusal to take things seriously reminded him of the frustrating days he'd spent trying to teach them the Fusion technique. Vegeta had finally lost his temper and the two of them literally pounded the boys; only the threat of Bulma and ChiChi's screeching in anger at the sight of their bruised and bloodied sons stopped them. _I don't know why I'm even bothering with this,_ Piccolo fumed. He didn't want the money and certainly wanted no part of the publicity. The last time he'd made a spectacle of himself he'd been forced to "fight" Kuririn, if the term fight could be used at all. He'd thrown the short human back into the ring to and left the tournament in total disgust.

Piccolo rubbed his aching shoulder as he walked up the beach towards the patio, feeling rainwater trickle down the back of his cloak and under his gi. He had to admit the workout had been a good one once the boys had some sense knocked into them. His body felt calm and relaxed, if a bit tender in a few places still waiting to rejuvenate. He reached for the door handle and froze. He wasn't supposed to be back for at least three more days! What if Khri had locked the door? He shrugged and tried the handle; he'd easily survived far worse weather. The door swung quietly open._ I don't know whether to be angry with her or not,_ he thought as he let himself in, careful to make sure the door didn't make a loud noise when he closed it. He paused long enough for a quick "chi-dry," then listened for familiar sounds that indicated all was well. The plumbing gurgled, the refrigerator hummed and the rain continued to pelt the windows. Satisfied, he headed for the kitchen in the dark.

He opened the refrigerator and scowled at Khri's inattention to her own needs. There was a bit of fruit, a carton of juice and what looked like leftover sushi in a clear wrapper, but that was it. _A Saiyan would starve to death if she did the shopping._ The aging beer was still on the top shelf, having been pushed to the far corner by the parade of water bottles reflecting light from the single bulb. He took one and made his way back to the living room. His adopted corner let him see both into the kitchen and out the patio doors without turning his head. One of the big windows had been left open a crack just wide enough to let in the sounds and scents of the storm without the rain. It was one of the reasons Piccolo actually liked didn't mind being inside Khri's house. Even when confined indoors you were still able to hear the surf and enjoy the sweet tropical breezes the ocean brought in. He had settled into his favorite meditation position and raised the bottle to his lips when he heard a different sound, this one coming from inside the house.

Piccolo lowered the bottle, setting it on a small table nearby and listened again. The sound was coming from down the hall and most likely from Khri's bedroom. There weren't any bumps or thuds or crashes that might indicate trouble, just a soft rustling followed by the opening of a door.

In the weeks he'd been playing bodyguard he couldn't remember one time that Khri had woke in the middle of the night. There were nights she stayed up late to work on her projects, but once the hall light turned off he knew he wouldn't see her until morning. _Did I wake her up when I came in?_ He'd taken care to be perfectly silent coming into the house, just as he always was when coming in late. He was mildly surprised when he heard soft footsteps coming down the hall. He was about to apologize for waking her up when he stopped himself short.

Khri padded barefoot into the kitchen still half asleep, one glowing eye opened further than the other. His eyes followed her in the dim light as she walked over to the refrigerator. Was she actually going for a midnight snack? That sort of behavior was common at both Vegeta and Goku's houses; even Gohan had a Saiyan appetite to sate. Khri, however, always acted like eating was an inconvenience.

Piccolo swallowed when she opened the door. _She didn't expect me to come back early!_

The light from the fridge, reflected through the fleet of water bottles, showed Khri hadn't bothered with her robe. She wore a pair of black, low cut underwear and a short baggy tank top that did nothing to cover the tawny skin between the two. Piccolo froze and tightly controlled his breathing. He understood her well enough to know that if Khri saw him now she'd be very embarrassed. Wishing to respect her pride, he decided to take a chance and let her think she was alone in the house.

When she bent slightly to peer into the fridge a lock of unbraided hair fell over her shoulder, curling past her waist and over her thigh. Piccolo smiled when she rubbed her eyes and yawned, showing all four fangs; she looked more like a sleepy tabby kitten than a seasoned warrior. He was so accustomed to seeing her covered from the neck down in her heavy black uniform or bulky sweaters that her lean, muscular build surprised him. Her long legs tapered up to slim, gently curved hips and a narrow waist, but her ribcage was larger and her shoulders a bit more broad than most human females. Khri finally settled on a bottle of water herself. When she raised her arm to take a drink, her loose top pulled up to reveal the soft lower curve of her breast. Piccolo shut his eyes, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment of his own. _I'm acting like Roshi!_ he thought in disgust, keeping his eyes closed and gritting his teeth. He heard the refrigerator door close and Khri's footsteps retreat down the hall.

With a long sigh, Piccolo finally opened his eyes. _I don't know why I should feel embarrassed about seeing Khri...that way...its not as if I could be interested in her the way human males would be._ He thought about it a long while but could only come up with two good reasons why seeing her in so little clothing would make him to feel so confused. The first had to do with the grudging respect he felt towards this alien female. She'd been a fighter longer than he had been alive, and seeing her stripped – literally – of her uniform gave her a vulnerability and softness that warred with what he knew about her. The second reason was simple aesthetics. Khri was pleasant to look at, just as the sounds of water were soothing to hear and a good sparring session was both exciting and relaxing to his body. _Aesthetics,_ he confirmed to himself again. He tucked the memory of Khri's kitchen visit in the back of his mind and returned to meditating when an uncomfortable thought intruded.

_Am I going to be able to face her in the morning?_

_To Be Continued..._

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AN: This WILL come back to haunt them. TRUST me. 

AceOfAuthors: ::wink wink:: (laughing)

Dreamwraith: This story deposited itself in my head over the course of three days the end of April, 2004. I wouldn't mind except when this happens I don't eat, I get a headache and wander around the house like a brain-dead zombie for at least a week! Fortunately this doesn't happen too often. I had the beginning, much of the middle and most of the end, and the next month was spent ironing out the wrinkles and figuring out what worked and what didn't. I wrote "One Good Deed" the week of June 20th and started the first chapter of "Errant Exile" the following week. As for the video? That is how I see it. There are times when wrangling it out of the digital film in my head into readable version gets tricky, but its very good to know I'm managing it to some degree :)

Clarinet: I'm glad you enjoyed "One Good Deed." The more I think about it, the more that fanfic foreshadows what's happening in "Errant Exile." I'm spending so much time on what could be labeled "just a fanfic" because it's a good stretch for me. Its been a great writing exercise so far, and I'm determined to see it through to the end and not be lazy. It is going to be pretty long, but I'm doing all I can to make it worth the read. Hope you'll stick with me! :)


	14. Tensions and Portents

Errant Exile

Chapter 14: _"Tensions and Portents "_

AN: Help Piccolo and Namek fans name the C2 community currently under development! Over the next few days those of us at namekseiDOTnet (just take the DOTout) will be taking suggestions for a title. We'd love some input – and please feel free to sign up while you're there!

* * *

_"I think I'm afraid, but I think I'm too angry to think about it" - Khri_

The morning of Sai's scheduled arrival dawned no differently than it did most other mornings in the tropics. The sun burst over the horizon in its normal fanfare of glory, setting the waves dancing with golden sparks and the lingering clouds on fire with pink and orange light. Seated comfortably on the slate tile roof, Piccolo focused on enjoying the fresh air rolling in from the ocean and tried to meditate. Today was going to be a trying day and he'd need all the calm he could muster.

He'd spent most of the previous night in the comfort of Khri's living room, electing not to go back outside when a second wave of thunderstorms rumbled up the coast. The light of the false dawn was shimmering through the eastern windows when Piccolo suddenly remembered that _today_ was the day of Sai's return trip. He had slipped out the back door before the birds started to sing and took up a watchful post on the roof. His new post gave him a clear vantage point to watch the real sunrise. It also let him listen above the surf for the first sounds of an approaching spacecraft. The real reason he'd perched on the roof was one that made him shift uncomfortably if he thought about it too long.

Piccolo squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of Khri's innocent trip to the kitchen without her robe. Just when he'd convinced himself there was a perfectly logical reason seeing her so vulnerable made him uncomfortable he remembered _why_Khri's eyes glowed in the dark. There was a damned good chance she'd seen him hovering in her living room, pretending to be meditating. Her footsteps hadn't missed a beat when she walked back to her room but that didn't mean she hadn't spotted him. Either way he was determined to pretend the whole thing hadn't happened and wasn't above using Sai's arrival as an excuse to sneak out early.

Above the squawks of the seabirds fighting over breakfast Piccolo could make out a distant whine. It was quickly growing in both volume and pitch, grating on both his sensitive ears and his fraying nerves. The shuttle, identical to the one that had brought in the medical team, dropped from the clouds and headed towards the beach. The tortoise-marked ship whipped the surf as it glided over the waves, finally floating to the shore and coming to a rest on the sand. The glow of its engines cooled to a faint blue as tendrils of steam threaded into the air.

Piccolo heard the patio door swing open. Khri appeared from beneath the eaves, one hand shielding her eyes from the glaring sunlight as she watched the shuttle's ramp lower. The moment it hit the sand soldiers streamed out, flanking a group of what had to be technicians. All of them came to immediate attention when they saw her. He noticed she was back in her uniform – except for the cloak – and the spiky headset was stuck to her left ear. She didn't bother to look back at the roof before she began the short walk to the shuttle, acknowledging and dismissing the troops with a brief salute.

He scowled when he saw a familiar red-haired man walk down the ramp, two assistants in tow. Sai was talking to them in low, urgent tones as he scrawled on a slimpad similar to Khri's. After his assistants had hurried away, Sai slowly raised his head and stared straight at Piccolo. His face was pale and there were dark crescents shadowing his eyes. He didn't bother with a salute; he simply nodded. Piccolo returned it but added a baleful glare. _You and I are going to have words later,_ he silently promised the man.

A good part of the strain left Sai's face when he greeted Khri with a salute, but not all. She waived him off and walked with him back towards the shuttle. "I'm glad you were able to keep the latest deadline, old friend." Her voice was soft but Piccolo's roost and the northerly breeze made it easy to hear. Both stood well away from the ramp where a parade of boxes and crates were being unloaded. "The reasons behind the schedule changes must have been good ones."

"Battle Commander, there is one in particular you must be made aware of..." Sai's voice trailed off and Khri visibly paled.

Sealed head to toe in glossy crimson armor, four identical figures marched in unison down the ramp, their heavy black cloaks waving in the breeze. Each manned a corner of the float pallet bearing a coffin-sized chest encased in what appeared to be the same plating. A metal band wrapped completely around the chest and had been secured on the lid by a thick gold seal. The honor guard came to a halt at the base of the ramp and all the nearby technicians and soldiers came to immediate attention.

Piccolo watched, both curious and a little worried, as Khri stood before the faceless figures and bowed deeply. _So these clowns aren't military...they're something even more important,_ he reasoned. There was a brief exchange between Khri and the guard stationed on the front right corner, which ended with Khri making another deep bow, turning and marching up the beach. The honor guard followed her, carefully guiding the float pallet and taking pains not to touch the lid. They disappeared around the side of the house in the direction of the garage.

Sai had remained behind on the beach. He looked shaken and a little fearful. He didn't bother to mask his feelings when Piccolo drifted down from the roof and met him half way to the house. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"Leonid House Guard," Sai replied soberly. "They answer only to Eldest himself. You can't order them around and anyone who impedes their mission intentionally faces summary execution."

Piccolo looked down at Khri's Second. The man hadn't been trying to intimidate him; in fact, Sai had the pale, tired appearance of someone who'd just spent long hours feeling scared to death. Judging by the circles under the Leonid's eyes, he was short on both sleep and patience. Piccolo remembered he had a long list of gripes he wanted to 'discuss' with Sai but suddenly they didn't seem very important. "Things are that bad?" Piccolo asked quietly.

"Worse than you know, Namek. The House Guards are just one reason why the modifications to the house were delayed."

A series of floating pallets were being pushed down the ramp. Piccolo nodded in satisfaction to see they carried thick, clear panels that were the perfect size of Khri's windows. "Talk, Sai. What's going on?"

Sai resumed the trek towards the house and Piccolo fell in beside him. "Namek, I'm going to be honest with you. I have a lot of reports that indicate things are going to go very wrong very soon, but no solid evidence."

"Like what?"

"Tigradi troop movements. Strange supply requests and off-schedule courier runs." He paused on the back patio to let a trio of technicians hauling a nest of cable to go in first. "I've got informants supplying me with clues on an hour-by-hour basis but I haven't been able to find a common connection to tie them all together."

The living room was swarming with activity. Care had been taken to protect the house; thick plastic sheeting had been draped over the furniture and a runner covered the wood floors and rugs. One group of techs were working to remove the temporary windows while another handful conspired in the far corner, debating the best place to drill a few small holes through the wall. Piccolo and Sai swept past all of them and retreated to the front of the house and the undisturbed formal dining room. Khri's slimpad and a half-full bottle of water sat on the large oak table, the only signs she'd co-opted the pleasant room for use as a temporary office. The windows were open and a gentle scented breeze rustled the wooden slats of the blinds. One of Khri's recent purchases had been the heavy oak table and four matching chairs that dominated the otherwise empty room.

_Enough with the guessing games. _Piccolo folded his arms and stared down at the slightly shorter man. "There's something you want to tell me but don't want Khri to know."

Sai snorted, running his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "Namek, as much as I hate to admit it, you were right. Khri is safer here on Earth than on the _Aughenai._"

Piccolo stared at Sai in shock and let his arms fall to his side. Such an admission, especially made to a rival, meant that things had to be very bad indeed. "Why? What's going on?"

"I can't prove anything, of course, but I suspect there's about to be an all-out war between our House and the Tigradi." Sai sat tiredly on the edge of the table. "The Telkarri are all but contained, but Tigradi communications activity is at an all time high. More importantly, there have been direct assassination attempts on the Fleet Commander and Battle Commander Ahtai."

"On board your ship? Damn..."

"Damn is right." Sai glanced out the arched doorway as a team hurried past with another run of cable. "Ahtai was injured but didn't miss an hour of duty. Eldest knows there's trouble ahead and I think that's why he ordered Khri to come here. I think he wants her out of harm's way."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "You said yourself she's needed on your ship because of her abilities and experience. Why would your 'Eldest' set her aside if her skills could make a difference in..."

"Piccolo? Sai?"

He stopped short at the sound of Khri's approaching voice. "Don't tell her about this little talk, Namek, not yet!" Sai growled the instant before his superior officer appeared in the doorway.

Khri's smile never reached her eyes. "There you are!" Her gaze traveled back and forth between them, suddenly wary. "I don't have to break up another disagreement, do I?"

"We were just...talking." Piccolo and Sai shared a conspiratorial smirk.

Khri arched a brow at them, unconvinced. "I think I prefer you two arguing. Seeing you two in agreement can only mean trouble."

"How can I assist, Battle Commander?" Sai asked respectfully.

"You probably won't have to warn them, but make sure the techs and support team stay out of the garage."

Sai snorted. "I'll send down the order, but they already know better than to tangle with the House Guard."

"That's why I led them to the garage," Khri said quietly. "There's nothing in there but the new VTOL and the tools you brought down during your last visit. The Guard Captain has orders not to leave it unsupervised until the shuttle is ready to launch. I can't think of a reason the tech teams would need to go out there. Sai, do you have a guess as to what's in that chest?"

"None, Commander. They arrived on the _Aughenai_ two days ago with sealed orders. All I know is they're here at the direct order of Eldest."

"I learned a bit more." Piccolo noticed that Khri's face was a shade paler than it should have been. Her skin was flawless but the tension she was working so hard to hide seemed to add years to her amber eyes. "The Guard Captain told me that the crate has a special security lock. It can't be opened until the after shuttle leaves Earth's atmosphere. At that time the Captain will send the signal to disable the explosives and my hand ID will disengage the seal..."

Piccolo stared down at her in disbelief. "Explosives?"

"They're just a precaution and won't go off if the case is opened correctly." Khri kept her voice low but Piccolo could hear the worry. "I've had to accept two other deliveries like this, but never away from Home or off the _Aughenai_._"_

"Battle Commander, pardon me if I'm overstepping, but...have you heard from Eldest lately?"

Khri folded her arms and leaned against the timbers of the door frame. "No. Nothing. Eldest certainly hasn't been easy to talk to; in fact, Sai, you've had more communication with him than I have lately. With that tight a seal, I probably won't be able to tell you what's in the chest once I do know because of security reasons. Which brings me to another concern." She stepped away from the frame and slid the pocket doors closed. Piccolo breathed a sigh of relief as the noise level dropped to a comfortable level thanks to the heavy leaded glass. "Sai, I'd like to know what the technicians are installing in the small bedroom."

Sai took a deep breath. "The techs are installing an advanced memidex computer system. It's been specifically designed to allow for massive memory capabilities with enchanced retrieval speed. Its capable of doing advanced calculations and extrapolations but those aren't its strong points."

Piccolo managed not to snort derisively. _He's rehearsed that more than a few times._

"I've also brought an upgrade for your slimpad," Sai continued. "It's a completely new design specifically modified to interface smoothly with the memidex. The graphics are also above and beyond anything on the _Aughenai._ Its brand new technology straight from home"

Khri's eyes were wide. "Sai, what is all this for? What is causing Eldest to believe I need such a thing?"

"I wish I knew, Battle Commander," he replied soberly. "I've done everything short of breaking regulations in order to find out. Maybe Eldest sent you some sort of message and its in that sealed chest."

Piccolo watched as Khri walked around the table to stand before one the open windows. She raised the blinds completely and opened the window a bit further. The breeze hissed through the palms just outside before rushing into the room, tousling the thick fringe of hair over her eyes. "I don't like this," she said without turning around. Her voice was a mere whisper on the soft wind. "I don't understand Eldest's more recent decisions and he refuses to answer any of my messages. And this not knowing...scares me."

Sai's swallow was audible above the sound of the breeze through the screens and the faint rustling of Piccolo's cape. Piccolo said nothing as he stared at Khri's back but felt his own worry grow. Her actions recently proved she wasn't the type to admit fear easily and Sai's reaction just confirmed his suspicions. He didn't know enough about Leonid politics – nor did he care to – to ask the right questions let alone offer solutions, but he did know that they were frightening Khri.

And he didn't like it.

"Battle Commander," Sai began, his voice wavering, "with your permission I'd like to show Piccolo all the security devices we're installing. I'd like to get his opinion and see if there's anything I may have missed."

Khri finally turned around. She'd managed to keep the fear from her expression but Piccolo could still see traces of it in her eyes. "Please do that, Sai." She forced her face into an ironic smile. "Just bear in mind I'd prefer not to live like a prisoner, all right?"

Sai's tour through the "new and improved" house took longer than expected and was more frustrating than Piccolo had imagined. In between the constant interruptions by technicians asking Sai questions and wanting his approval on a task, Piccolo learned that all of the windows had been replaced, not just the ones shattered by the assassination attempt. Nearly invisible sensors monitored every exterior window and door, funneling information into small computer nestled into one wall of the kitchen. What irritated him most – other than Sai's condescending attitude and over-explanation of everything – was the plate outside the house next to the patio door. It required him to press his palm against it every time he wanted to open the door. He couldn't see how such a flimsy device would stop a determined attacker. _I'll bet he installed it just to piss me off,_ Piccolo hissed to himself as Sai launched into another detailed description of the new dish on the roof.

"What is the point to all this?" Piccolo finally interrupted in disgust as the tour ended back in the dining room. "She can't stay in this house forever. How will all of your little machines protect her then?"

Sai watched grimly as two technicians started to haul the first load of tools back to the shuttle, then closed the doors. "Namek, I'd plant sensors in her underwear if I felt it would help...and if I could get away with it."

"Good luck," Piccolo snorted. "From what I've seen, I don't think your sensors are small enough to be hidden in so little fabric."

"That wouldn't be a problem. The difficulty is..." Sai's voice ground to a halt. Piccolo watched in amusement as the man's cheeks blazed as red as his hair and a flame kindled in his amber eyes. Taunting him with this particular bit of information out of petty revenge was risky, but he was convinced Sai would never mention it to Khri. At least he hoped he wouldn't.

Sai remained silent in his struggle to control his temper. "If you're able to get that close to Khri, then you're in a better position to protect her than I am."

Bitterness was an emotion Piccolo knew well. It had dominated so much of his early life, turning the smallest of accomplishments into a thing to be questioned and ultimately regretted thanks to his sire's influence. He recognized the same bitterness now, hearing it pour freely into Sai's tone if not his words. "Since you think everything I'm trying to do here is pointless, maybe you should take it upon yourself to be personally responsible for Khri's life. For decades I've done everything I can to watch her back. I'd gladly take the knife for her, if I could. If she means anything to you, Namek, anything at all, you won't leave her alone." His voice dropped to a low hiss. "War is coming, and its coming fast. Just knowing she's away from it...knowing she's protected..." He let it drop and shook his head.

Piccolo didn't know what disturbed him more; Sai's refusal to be baited or his revealing outburst. "Khri may be important to your people, but she's just one person," he offered. "If there is a war, do you really think your enemies would waste time and effort on her?"

"If they were sane? Of course not." Sai laughed humorlessly. "Over the years the Tigradi have become more violent, more bloodthirsty and chaotic. In the last century they've barely held themselves to the laws of Home in spite of pressure from other Clans. It seems they've finally tired of putting up a civilized front." Through the slight distortion in the leaded glass they could both see Khri walk down the hallway, two technicians following at a respectful distance. Sai turned back to look directly at Piccolo. "Her death would be a huge coup for them and a blow to us. She's more than 'just one person,' Namek. She's a symbol with a reputation. The Tigradi would pay dearly – in both their lives and ours – to see that symbol defiled and destroyed."

Piccolo stared down at the heavy square table. Khri had purchased it specifically because it wasn't new. Old wood, she had explained, had a deep luster and patina that only time could grant. 'The years add character and make it unique,' she'd told him with a meaningful smile. 'Every scratch, nick and flaw define it and set it apart, making it more special than something new.'

_I could walk away from all this,_ Piccolo thought, closing his eyes. The racket caused by the technicians' drilling and pounding was starting to slack off, a sign their job was coming to an end. _These aliens and their politics aren't my concern unless they threaten Earth. From what I've seen we can deal with the Telkarri easily...hell, I could probably go it alone without help from either Goku or Vegeta if I wanted to. Sai isn't my problem and neither is Khri._

_And I'm trying to fool myself again._

Not so many years ago Piccolo knew he would have walked away. He wouldn't have bothered to get involved at all. The distant, hazy memories of Khri had been buried along with the darker, bloodier fragments of his childhood and would have stayed there if he hadn't allowed someone else to intrude into his life. Someone with thick black hair and liquid eyes that looked up at him without terror, filled instead with admiration and devotion. Someone he'd sacrificed his own life for and spent years trying to figure out why. Piccolo opened his eyes and found himself staring at the table again. Luster and patina. _Khri has both of those. I only have scars._

"All right," he growled, "I'll keep an eye on Khri for you. How long do you think you've got until this war breaks out?"

"That's hard to predict." Some of the tension in Sai's face had eased. "Our best guess, based on communications and troop movements, puts it a few weeks from now. They won't attack until they're absolutely ready but it could come at any time."

One of the pocket doors slid open and Khri poked her head inside the dining room. "Sai, the crews have just about finished. At least two are ready for inspection and three need some clarification on the final settings."

Sai nodded tightly. "Check, Commander. I'll be right there."

As he turned to go, the Leonid paused. "I probably won't get another chance to do this, so...thank you, Piccolo. Knowing that at least one of Earth's best fighters is protecting Khri really does help ease a lot of minds. Mine included."

Sympathy – both persistent and irritating – tugged at Piccolo to make a concession. "It won't be just me," he rumbled quietly. "If things get out of hand, I can contact Goku, Vegeta, and a handful of others nearly as powerful who can come in an instant. Walling her up in a fortress won't keep her safe." _But I will._

_Dammit...where did that come from? _Piccolo found himself clenching his fists. _Feh...I'm just fed up with this idiot's reliance on machines and toys to do a warrior's job._

Sai's spirits seemed to improve even further. "I'm very glad to hear that. If you want to tell Khri, just do it after I've left, please. I'd rather not risk having her final memories of me be ones of anger." He disappeared into the hall, leaving the door open.

Piccolo smothered a gasp of alarm and stared after Sai. _Final memories? He really doesn't expect to survive this!_ Small, snarling 'what if' thoughts reared out of their dark corners and he ruthlessly beat them back one at a time. Now wasn't the time to wonder about Khri's future when the present was dangerous enough. Workers and soldiers alike scrambled out of his way as he walked out the patio door.

The technicians proved to be both fast and efficient. Shortly past noon the last of the crews were packing up their equipment, running the final tests and making small tweaks to the improved security systems. Piccolo watched impassively from a corner on the patio as empty cases and float pallets bearing the heavier tools were marched back down the beach to the waiting shuttle. The noise inside the house had dwindled to a few thuds here and there and the murmur of voices. "It sounds like they're just about done," he told the shorter figure standing beside him.

Khri's face was a mixture of quiet resolve, worry and sadness. "And I've got a feeling I won't be seeing them again." He watched as she clasped her hands behind her back. "Any of them."

"You don't know that for certain. Blackfire doesn't give you the gift of seeing the future, does it?"

"Not at all, but I've had hunches in the past that felt the same, and they've been fairly accurate."

Piccolo waited until the crew that had installed the windows were out of earshot before responding. "Are you thinking there's Kaio involvement here?"

"I'd bet on it." Khri's eyes glittered coldly. "I'm not sure where Kaio-Sama is interfering – on my end, at Home or both – but I'm convinced he's involved." She sighed, then pinched the skin between her brows. "I could wear myself out analyzing all the reasons and I'd still stand a good chance of being wrong. Not having any answers is wearing me thin."

"So I've noticed." Piccolo stared down at her, frowning. Her uniform didn't fit as smoothly as it had when she'd first arrived, and there was a noticeable gap between her thick belt and her waist. "You're not Namekian. You can't live on water. Should I ask Sai to leave behind some of those food bars you love so much?"

A missing spark reappeared in Khri's eyes. "Try it, Namek, and I'll make sure you suffer too." She glanced down at her trousers, seeming to notice their poor fit for the first time. "You do have a point, though. I promise, after the shuttle leaves I'll scrounge some lunch and then see about placing a grocery order."

Piccolo had just enough time to nod in satisfaction before a very tired Sai joined them on the patio. "Well, everything is installed, cleanup is complete and I have no excuses to stall for time," he said, adjusting his communications array. "I've signaled the House Guard that everyone is on the shuttle. They'll do one last sweep, and then we'll be on our way. There's nothing left to do..."

"Except to say goodbye," Khri finished for him.

Actually turning aside would have been too obvious, so Piccolo focused his attention on the shuttle. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Khri and Sai saying their farewells not as Battle Commander and Second, but as two old friends and long-time companions.

"Take care of yourself," Khri whispered, tightening her arms around Sai's neck.

"You too." Piccolo pretended not to hear the scratch in his voice. Instead he concentrated on watching the vivid blue of the shuttle's engines send fresh curls of steam into the air as they warmed up. He was concentrating so hard on _not_listening that he nearly missed the sounds of approaching footsteps.

"Company's coming," he growled softly in warning.

Khri and Sai quickly parted, turning to face the House Guard. All four of them waited until Sai acknowledged them with a crisp salute and answered with a slight nod. Khri, however, they graced with a deep, courteous hand-over-the-heart bow. The Guard Captain, identifiable by the gold cord looped around his left shoulder, stepped forward.

"All security upgrades and subsequent checks have been made and meet with House satisfaction." The full helmet concealing his face gave his voice had a metallic edge. "After our departure we will send the signal and release the seals. Eldest has requested that Youngest open and examine the contents of his shipment immediately and send the proper code word, via secure channels, that the contents arrived in satisfactory condition."

Khri returned the bow. "I will do as Eldest requests, and Youngest thanks him for his generosity and thoughtfulness."

The Guard bowed as a unit again. Sai saluted Khri one last time, winked, shot Piccolo a parting, meaningful look, then headed for the shuttle with the Guard in tow. They disappeared inside, the ramp lifted, and the whine of the engines took on a new, higher pitch. Piccolo gave into a rare impulse and he gently placed a hand on Khri's shoulder. She didn't shrug it off as they stood together on the patio and watched the shuttle lift slowly into the sky. Her long, tawny fingers reached up to grip his green ones as the whine faded and the ship vanished beyond the high clouds.

Neither moved until long after the shuttle had gone. The steady piping of birdsong had resumed and the waves, rolling in with the tide, were taking small nips out of the footprints the heavy landing gear had left behind. Piccolo gave Khri's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You ok?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll be fine," she said, giving his fingers a gentle pat before he released her. "I don't have to worry about the windows getting shot out anymore and I've got some new equipment to play with, so I guess I'm in better shape than I was this morning. At least when it comes to security." She turned and looked up at him. "Why don't we go see what Eldest sent? I'm very curious to see what was so important it had to be shipped under seal all the way from Home. I have to open it now anyway; orders are orders."

Strangely enough, both of the large carriage doors on the garage had been left wide open by the House Guard. _So much for the place looking secure_, Piccolo mused as followed Khri inside, blinking in the sudden darkness. A box of tools stood in the far corner next to Khri's new VTOL – 'old technology never improves with age' she had remarked when it was delivered – which occupied half of the garage. The motorcycle she kept in its capsule in her knapsack, which hung on a peg by the garage door. Hovering squarely in the center of the other empty bay was the sealed chest.

Undeterred by the knowledge the lid was rigged to explode if opened improperly, Khri eagerly inspected the seal. "The Guard Captain has already sent the signal." She indicated a blinkingl green light in the center of the round, ornate medallion. The seal itself was actually nothing more than a cover that swivelled aside to reveal a circle of dark, flat glass. She pressed the flat of her hand against it. It began to glow softly, increasing in intensity until shafts of light shone through her spread fingers. There was a snap as the metal bands released on either side of the seal and clattered to the concrete floor. Khri slid the seal cover back into place and gripped the edge of the lid. "The moment of truth," she breathed and pulled the lid upward.

The chest contained not one but three items, each of them nestled in a custom-fitted bed of protective foam. The first was a suit of glossy black and crimson armor, broken down into its individual components for compact shipping. The second was another molded case that took up nearly half of the chest by itself. The third was a rolled sheet of white parchment that had been tied with a red ribbon. The paper was the first thing Khri removed.

Piccolo leaned on the edge of the chest, mildly surprised it easily supported his weight. "Nice armor, but I hope there's more to it than just looks."

"That's not just any armor." Khri's eyes flickered across the single page, her face going nearly as white as the paper. "According to this note, it's the most advanced House armor to date. It's very light, flexible, and holds up under impact. Only the House Guard is supposed to wear it and only if they expect combat." She removed one of the gauntlets and slipped it over her right hand. It looked bulky and uncomfortable, but her fingers moved easily and she was able to make a fist. "I would love to have had the stuff made standard issue but its too expensive to mass produce." Piccolo saw through the faint glow of her eyes that the fear was back. "I don't think I want to know the reason Eldest sent me this."

_Definitely time to distract her, if I can._ Piccolo tapped the case. "What is this?"

Khri continued to skim the parchment, then her eyes flew open in surprise. "It's a gift for Dende! The instructions say I'm to deliver it to him as soon as possible and I'm not to open it until I get to the Lookout." She tapped the handle. "Just by looking at it, I'd guess its some type of sensing equipment. Maybe even a small computer."

"What would Dende do with a computer?" Piccolo frowned, sharing her puzzlement.

"If that's what it is." Khri removed the gauntlet and placed it back in its foam slot next to the chest plate. Piccolo noticed there was no sign of any markings or insignia on the armor but it didn't really surprise him; Khri never wore any on her uniform. "I guess we'll have to wait to find out what this is until I see Dende."

"I'll contact him. I'm sure Mr. Popo wouldn't mind a guest for dinner, if you're willing to go tonight."

Khri lowered the lid on the chest, not bothering to reactive the seal. "That would give me time to go over all the changes to the house and send confirmation to Eldest I got his gift," she said. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge. "If that armor it is a gift."

Piccolo raised one eye ridge. "You think its something else."

When Khri looked up at him, the emotion in her eyes made his chest tighten. "I think it's a warning. And I think Eldest has a reason to believe I'll use it." Her eyes closed and she looked away. "And I think that's what scares me most of all."

The silence in the garage lasted until a gust of wind blew a cluster of fallen palm fronds in through the door. They scratched a noisy path across the floor and landed in a corner. Piccolo sniffed the air, smelling moisture and feeling a quick temperature drop. _There's a powerful thunderstorm coming up the coast._ Feeling frustrated and powerless to help, his hand found its way back to her shoulder. Khri smiled and then shivered, but he felt it had more to do with circumstances than the chill.

_To Be Continued... _

* * *

AN: Ye small gods, what a chapter. It seemed like every time-eating bogeyman on the planet was poking at me, trying to keep me from slogging through this. 

This will be the last quiet chapter for a while. Things are going to get rough, and fast. I hope I'm ready for this.


	15. Duty's Call

Errant Exile

Chapter 15: _"Duty's Call"_

AN: VTOL stands for Vertical Takeoff and Landing. It's a bit like a helicopter only without the blades.

* * *

"... and I told Goku, 'if you're bringing home clothing that's been ripped to shreds, what do think poor Uub's shirts look like?' So I packed up a bunch of things Goten outgrew and..." 

Khri stared down into the parfait glass on the table and watched as the last lump of chocolate ice cream melted, sinking into a small cloud of whipped cream. She twirled the long-handled spoon into the puddle, creating a brown and white whirlpool of chopped nuts. The maraschino cherry stem rested safely on the table; it had been eaten first, per Pan's instructions.

_Tahi and Sidoni would love this stuff. I wonder if there's a way to get a shipment to them before it melted?_ The last time she'd seen her trouble-making twin nephews, they'd been too young to start their formal academics and military training. A little math told her that enough years had passed for them to have graduated and be well into their own service years. Both had their grandfather's sunny blond hair and his love of small but harmless jokes, especially if they involved a certain aunt they treated more like an older sister. She winced and shied away from that family memory, afraid it would unleash other more recent and painful ones.

"Khri, dear, are you all right?"

She looked up to see Bulma and ChiChi watching her in concern. "Yes, thank you, I'm fine." She smiled in slight embarrassment. "The sundae was wonderful, but I don't think I'm used to such rich food yet." It was partially true; foods such as noodles and fish went down fine but her stomach took issue with cheese and now ice cream. She pushed the dish to one side and reached for her water glass.

"This place serves the best desserts," piped up Pan, who was slurping down the last of her milkshake. "Grandma always brings me here when we go shopping! It's too bad mommy couldn't come, but she had an appointment." Upon arriving at the little café and being ushered to a table next to the window, the little girl had appropriated the seat beside Khri. 'You're new here so I have to show you what's good!' she'd insisted. Khri had grinned at her and ordered the recommended hot dog, fries and soda. Topping it off with the incredible chocolate ice cream had been an impulse her abused stomach was starting to regret.

After more than a week of abusing herself in the workout room, pacing the floors at odd hours, tinkering with the new slimpad and sitting on the beach and staring at the ocean, Khri decided her sanity needed a change in scenery. ChiChi's timely phone call inviting her on a shopping and lunch trip in Satan City provided the excuse. It took a bit of persuading and planning, but she finally convinced Piccolo that they both needed a break from the daily grind of constant anxiety. Khri couldn't help but feel a little guilty about monopolizing his time – she knew her pacing was driving him crazy – and he needed to stretch his own muscles. She showed him the two-way communicators Sai had left behind. Each one could reveal the other's position anywhere on Earth and both had an emergency beacon. The scowl on his face she'd come to identify with his feelings of concern didn't completely mask his worry, but she assured him she'd use the communicator if there were any signs of trouble. Once she'd addressed all his misgivings he reluctantly agreed. She watched him fly off, smiling at his enthusiasm about the idea of taking out his frustrations on Goten and Trunks. She packed the VTOL with the new armor and her battle array, made a thorough service check of her _diacha_ and tossed in her knapsack with the encapsulated motorcycle, just in case.

The VTOL – another Capsule masterpiece – was purchased with the understanding that sometimes travel by motorcycle was impractical. The Tomahawk kept her from buying furniture on impulse but it also made for an uncomfortable ride when it rained. The weather was sunny and perfect for flying to Satan City and, thanks to Capsule technology, she never had to worry about finding a parking space or shoving change in a meter.

After meeting her shopping partners in one of downtown's most plush department stores, Khri spent the next several hours in the company of two of the most chattiest women she had ever met. Their constant banter and debates over their husbands, children and who was aging the most gracefully confused and amused her. She experienced an extremely uncomfortable moment when ChiChi asked about her marital status but Pan suddenly decided she was starving and wanted to eat _now._ They walked the short distance to a brightly decorated café and were promptly seated at table next to the window.

_What am I doing here,_ Khri asked herself for the hundredth time as she rattled the ice cubes in her glass. _I'm distracted, I'm terrible company and fighting the impulse to jump at every shadow is wearing me out. I've never been this nervous over anything...why can't I keep myself under control?_ Over lunch Bulma and ChiChi had tried their best to draw her into the conversation, but she explained she was having 'family troubles' and apologized for her unsocial behavior. They seemed to understand and they promptly launched into a series of funny stories about the challenges of being married to Saiyans and keeping up with their incredible appetites.

The evening of Sai's visit, Khri had taken the VTOL up to the Lookout – much to Piccolo's irritation – and delivered the case to Dende. Her guesses had all been wrong; when Dende opened the lid she was shocked to find a compact but very powerful deep space receiver. There was also a sealed parchment addressed specifically to Earth's Guardian. She tried to pretend she hadn't seen Dende's face pale to the color of new lettuce as he read it silently. He said the writer asked him not to share what was written in the letter and Khri didn't want know. She assembled the receiver and set it outside the Lookout on a small table provided by Mr. Popo. Over dinner she gave Dende the short version of the the most recent events. Mr. Popo was disappointed when she left most of her food on her plate, but then Piccolo walked over and practically growled at her. He lingered at the Lookout after she'd left in order to talk with Dende, then growled again when he found her pacing upon his return. _Yes, we both definitely needed some time to ourselves._

"Khri?" A tug on her sleeve brought her focus back to the present and the noisy café.

"Yes, Pan?"

"Did you and Mr. Piccolo make up after your fight?"

ChiChi and Bulma's conversation instantly stopped. Bulma's spoon chimed as it fell onto her pie plate and spattered the tablecloth with melted ice cream. Both women turned slowly to look at Khri, who was painfully aware of the heat rising in her face. ChiChi's jaw dropped open. "You...you and..."

"And...Piccolo? You had a fight?" Bulma finished, her blue eyes huge and round.

"And you...made up?" ChiChi dropped her fork into her lap, which left four cherry-colored stains on her skirt.

_Oh...shit! They would jump to the wrong conclusions!_ "It was the night of Bulma's party and it wasn't really a fight," she protested. The innocent expression she managed to conjure wasn't going to fly, not with her mouth going dry and her cheeks darkening. "It was just a misunderstanding that I took out of context! We talked it over and everything is fine."

ChiChi's face went from shock to a scowl. "Humph! You're too polite, Khri. I've known Piccolo a long time so you're not fooling anybody." She tapped a fingernail on the edge of her plate. "If there was an argument, he was the one who started it! He's been a troublemaker for years, so don't you let him push you around!"

Khri's anxiety disappeared in a flash of anger. "He doesn't have the authority to push me..."

"Just how well do you two know each other?" Bulma suddenly interrupted, eyes twinkling. "I know you must have talked the day after you arrived because Piccolo took you from ChiChi's house..."

"Kidnapped!"

"Kidnapped, abducted, whatever. Have you two been seeing each other since then?" Her voice had the suspicious tone Khri recognized from the gossipy old matrons she'd been forced to endure as a child. Jaw tightening, she considered working up an icy reply when a flurry of activity out the window caught her eye. She leaned over and craned her head around her lunch companions for a better view.

Two men and one woman ran past the window. They weren't jogging for exercise; the men were in disheveled business suits and the woman was struggling with a skirt that kept tangling her legs. The man running behind the other two looked back over his shoulder. There was no mistaking the terror in his eyes.

Bulma frowned, lowering her tea cup. "Khri? What is it?" Following Khri's line of sight, both women turned and looked out the window.

The water in Pan's glass, still mostly full because she had guzzled her milkshake first, rippled and sent the ice cubes dancing. Through the soles of her feet Khri could feel the floor vibrate as if a giant had stomped on the ground nearby. "Don't move," she hissed. "I need you ladies to be very still and quiet a moment."

Khri took a long, deep breath and listened carefully. The background music being piped in through the café's sound system droned on with no interruption. Another thud shook the ground but this one was harder. _It could be an attack by the Tigradi but that would be a total waste of resources. It could be a Telkarri attack...or it could be just a gas pipeline exploding._ Other patrons noticed and looked up from their meals in confusion. More people were running past the window, just as frantic as the first three had been, and one elderly man had blood streaming from a head wound. "They're coming! Run!" a woman shrieked as she stumbled, recovered, and limped forward.

"What's going on out there?" asked a frightened older lady from a nearby table. One by one the other customers put down their utensils and started to stand up.

_It's finally come._

There was no way to be absolutely sure about her suspicions, but Khri felt the emotional snap of a soldier who's long, agonizing wait flared into a call for action at last. She stood up and swallowed to clear her throat. "I need every one of you to listen to me," she announced in a calm voice, staring down any man or woman to started to rise in challenge. "If you do exactly as I say you will all survive, but _only _if you follow my instructions." While she still had the advantage as they wallowed in shock, she snapped at the nearest waitress. "You. Does this restaurant have a back door? If so, where does it go?"

"It...it does," the greying woman stammered. Receipts slipped between her fingers, floating to the floor. "It leads to a service alley."

Khri spied a tall, muscular young man with a military-style haircut who stood watching her. His companion, either his girlfriend or young wife, sat trembling in the seat behind him. "You, Sir. I want you to lead everyone out the back door, single file." She recalled the map of Satan City she'd pulled up on the VTOL's computer. _The fields to the west are the only place ships could land easily...to the east its all suburbs. _" Once you get into the service alley you are to walk, _not run_, towards the east side of the city. That direction will take you in the opposite direction of where the trouble is coming from." She let her most piercing glare fall on each adult. "You must walk. Fast movement will attract attention you really don't want. If you're in a situation where you have to hide, don't go underground." Khri knew she'd made a good guess when the young man saluted her with a snappy 'yes, ma'am' and walked calmly towards the back of the restaurant.

"Who are you?" An portly older man who'd seen too many days end in the bottom of a beer bottle wrenched his considerable gut up out of his chair. "Who do you think you are, to order us around?"

"I'm someone who's wasting precious time to save your worthless life," Khri said as softly as she could and still be heard above the growing screams and distant explosions outside. The tense murmuring the man inspired died away.

Once the customers were shuffling fearfully in the right direction, Khri turned back to ChiChi, Bulma and Pan. All three looked terrified but she noticed there was anger, too. "We've still got some time and we need information before we plan any further. Let's go into the kitchen. We need to find either a television or a radio."

The cooks and the wait staff had left behind several simmering pots. ChiChi switched off the cooking surfaces and ovens, then doused a smoking pan of burning poultry in the sink while Khri, Bulma and Pan pushed through to the back office. It had been abandoned by the head cook who had conveniently left the television on. "Let's see if we can find out what's happening," Bulma said as she picked up the remote control and flicked through the channels. She found one broadcasting live news.

Khri stared at the television, mind churning as she watched a terrified reporter dive for cover behind the news truck. "They're headed down South Avenue towards Main now!" the wild-eyed man yelled into his microphone as the image shook. The camera pointed towards the western end of the city where clouds of thick smoke billowed into the perfect afternoon sky. "What's that?" He pressed his finger deeper into his ear. "News Central reports that the Royal Army has been alerted and planes are now being dispatched! We should see the first squadrons overhead any moment now!"

Bulma and ChiChi peered around her shoulder; Pan increased her chi enough to float behind them so she could see too. "Khri, do you know what's attacking us?" ChiChi asked. Her trembling fingers clenched as if in search of a lethal kitchen utensil.

"I have a good idea but I can't be absolutely certain. It could be one of two sources or, in the worst case scenario, both at once. Its very unlikely but it could still happen. I need to know what we're about to fight before I make a plan." The picture on the screen careened wildly as the cameraman pointed it skyward. Khri folded her arms and scowled as a formation of atmosphere-limited fighters roared over the skyscraper rooftops. Seconds later they buzzed the sky over the restaurant, rattling the windows. _Earth's military is good at making loud noises, small craters and successfully dealing with ordinary threats, but not what I think is coming. Telkarri shields are too sophisticated for small projectile weapons to penetrate and they're too fast for bombs..._

Bulma noticed her dark expression. "You don't think Earth's soldiers can defend us, do you?" she asked in disbelief and a tinge of injured pride. "Well, Vegeta and the others can!" She started digging through her purse and pulled out a cell phone. "I'm going to try calling...maybe someone is home..."

The picture blurred as the camera angle changed again, shooting down to a wide-angle view of the street. The intersection was empty except for a few abandoned cars and the news crew. An unseen blast strong enough to be felt under their feet shook violently shook the camera. Chunks of concrete, steel and glass roared past , followed by large tentacles of thick smoke that curled around the corner building. Khri barely heard Bulma, ChiChi and Pan gasp as she watched three Telkarri Yellows and one Green spider-walk into view and fan out. "Shit," she whispered.

"Goku told me about those things," ChiChi cried. "Why are they here? What do they want?"

Khri drew herself up to her full height. Both women were obviously very frightened and angry, but it was determination that tightened their hands into fists and gave ChiChi the idea to snatch a butcher's knife from the kitchen. Pan's small fists were clenched tightly and her dark eyes sparkled in fury as she hovered midair like a vengeful cherub. "Listen carefully, ladies. Are Vegeta, Trunks and Goten all sparring with Piccolo today?" She slid the communicator out of her jeans pocket and hit the emergency beacon. She noted that Piccolo's current location was far to the south and east of Satan City.

ChiChi nodded. "Yes! I'd call Goten on his cell phone but Piccolo smashed it last week when it rang while they were sparring!"

Bulma echoed her nod. "Vegeta and Trunks are with them. Trunks usually leaves his phone behind and Vegeta just plain refuses to carry one."

_Damn._ "I just let Piccolo know there's trouble but I want a second way of letting them know what's going on. Hopefully he's not too busy fighting not to notice...can either of you fly? I'm chi-blind so I can't tell if you have that ability..."

Both women shook their heads.

"I can! I can!"

Khri looked over a wide-eyed Pan who was beating the air with her fists. "Look at me! See? I can fly! I've been able to hover since I was two and fly since I was three years old!"

_Gohan's daughter. Of course._ Khri smiled and folded her arms. "Pan, I've got a special mission just for you. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I know I can!" Pan piped, clenching her little fists.

"Good." Khri took a deep breath, letting Pan's eager anticipation work. "I want you to find your father and tell him that the city is under attack. If you can't find him, see if you can find Piccolo." It would be helpful to have Goku too but if Pan was successful in reaching Gohan, he could notify his father. "Can you sense chi? I know some users can speak telepathically..."

Pan's enthusiasm waned just a bit. "I can't talk to daddy like that yet, and he has to power up before I can sense him."

Khri nodded. The entire building shuddered and bits of ceiling plaster came down, scattering across the desk and dusting ChiChi's hair. _Not much time left, they're getting closer._ She considered having Pan go directly to Piccolo – at lease one of the fighters had to be powered up to a point she could sense it if they were sparring – but Gohan was closer. _If Gohan is in the city, I'm surprised he hasn't figured out what's happening! Why isn't he looking for his daughter?_ "Pan, do you know where Piccolo and the others are training?"

Her head bobbed. "Uh huh. I've been there many times, even though they wouldn't let me fight..."

"Pan!" Khri took hold of her shoulders and pulled her close. "If you can't find your father, I need you to tell Mr. Piccolo or Vegeta or whoever you find what's happening here and they're needed. Now, can you tell me what you're supposed to do?"

"Find my daddy," Pan repeated. "Mama says he had a big class to teach today at work. If I can't find him I'm supposed to find Mr. Piccolo."

Khri glanced at ChiChi. "Where is the university? Is it east of here? I won't send her into a combat area."

ChiChi nodded. "North and east."

"Good! Pan, after you've found your daddy or Piccolo and told them what's happening, I want you to go to your grandma's house and stay there. Try to call your mother and let her know what's going on. Your grandma will be home as soon as she can."

Pan's eyes started to water with angry tears. "But Khri, I..."

"That's an order, Pan. Its part of your mission." Khri loosened her grip on Pan's shoulders and gently smoothed down her hair. Just like her grandpa Goku's it sprang straight up again. "I know you want to help, but its very important that we know you're safe." Another blast, this one closer, was strong enough to loosen more plaster. "Be careful!" she whispered. "Your grandmother will clobber me with one of her pans if anything happens to you."

Pan tried to smile and gulped back her tears, her little face serious. "I will, and I will find Daddy or Mr. Piccolo."

Khri gave her shoulder a pat, then stood up. "All right. Its time to move."

The moment they left the office the floor trembled with the intensity of a minor earthquake. It didn't feel as close as the previous two blasts but it had a bigger impact; all the lights went out, plunging the narrow kitchen into darkness. Bulma and ChiChi gasped and moved closer together, then ChiChi let out a little screech when she saw two amber lights shining in Khri's face. "It's all right. I know they glow, they're supposed to. I have natural night vision."

"You can see in the dark?" marveled Pan, who hovered near Khri's shoulder. "That's so...wow!"

"Thank you...I think. Just stay close."

Khri navigated easily through the dark kitchen's swinging doors and led them to the service exit. "Pan, you already know what to do. Bulma, I want you and ChiChi to stay together and get out of town. Head east. I don't care how you do it – if you're able to reach an air car, fine – just get out of the city. Bulma, keep trying to reach Vegeta or Videl or somebody on that cell phone of yours. If we're lucky, Piccolo got disgusted with Trunks and Goten again and they called it quits early." _Oops...I probably shouldn't have said that,_ Khri winced. _I'll bet I've just given them another reason to poke their noses into my relationship with Piccolo._ "If we're really lucky they've turned on the television, are aware of what's happening and are on their way."

"Well, they're not here now," Bulma snapped. "If they were, those explosions would be a lot bigger! Vegeta could give a rat's ass about damaging public property."

Khri reached for her _diacha_ as she pressed one ear to the back door. When she opened it a crack bright daylight streamed in, making her blink. Echoes from the distant explosions and clatter of fleeing footsteps bounced off nearby buildings. A small dog was yapping somewhere nearby and the smell of fresh bread from the bakery next door warred with the stench of burning livelihoods. "The alley is clear. Pan, I want you to go first. Fly at low speed until you've cleared the tallest rooftops. Don't worry about your chi. They can't sense it. I want you clear before Bulma and ChiChi head out."

Pan gave Bulma and her tearful grandma quick hugs. To Khri's complete surprise, she wrapped her little arms around her neck. "Bye, Khri. I'll find daddy or Mr. Piccolo. I promise! Don't get hurt, ok?"

"I know you'll do well, Pan." Khri gently returned the hug. "You be careful. I will too. Now go!"

Pan nodded, slipped out and slowly began her ascent. They watched her through the cracked door until a tall apartment building to the north hid her from view.

"Thank you," ChiChi said softly. Tears shimmered in her eyes but her expression was one of relief. "Thank you for sending Pan away. She's young but she can fly fast. I'm sure she'll get away."

"Don't be fooled," Khri said sternly. "Pan is on a serious assignment. Our lives depend on her finding Gohan." _Or Piccolo._ "Are you two ready?"

Bulma brushed a strand of blue hair from her eyes. "My air car is only a couple of blocks from here in a private parking garage. I heard what you said earlier and don't worry, its above ground. I think ChiChi and I can make it safely."

"Why?" ChiChi's trembling voice was approaching a wail. "Why are they here? Why are they attacking Earth? What do they want?"

Khri's voice came out in a throaty snarl. "They want your planet. They don't give a damn who or what they're destroying and will do whatever it takes to get it. I don't know if they've focused on just Satan City alone or if others are being attacked as well, but there's no time to think about that. After I leave, count down one minute. Then go." She pushed past the women and stepped outside, looking up and down the wide alley.

"What? You're not coming with us?" Bulma stumbled out the door after her, ChiChi less than a step behind. "What are you going to do?"

The _diacha _instantly telescoped into two white, glowing blades. "Fend them off. Buy time. Hope Gohan, Piccolo and Vegeta get the message. It's about all I can do." She gave them a grim smile before she began running.

_To Be Continued..._


	16. When You Fall Part 1

Errant Exile

Chapter 16: "When You Fall - Part 1 "

NOTE: An extra warning for violence applies to this chapter.

* * *

_"What are you going to do?" - Bulma_

_"Fend them off. Buy time. Hope Gohan, Piccolo and Vegeta get the message. It's about all I can do." - Khri_

The ground shook under Khri's feet as she ran, cracking the concrete sidewalk ahead and throwing her off balance. A warning rumble sounded overhead; she looked up in time to see a flat slab of marble sheer off the side of a lavish office building. Khri jumped backward and the marble crashed onto the once ornate steps leading up to the entrance. One of the flying shards caught the back of her hand which she'd thrown up to protect her face. She ignored the bleeding gash and struggled to escape from from the thick cloud of debris.

After abandoning Bulma and ChiChi, Khri ran west towards the distant sounds of artillery fire. Before coming to Earth she'd taken a few minutes to review its military strength and technological capabilities and knew they couldn't withstand a serious attack by Telkarri. Their shields were impervious to bullets and projectile weapons, and even some energy attacks. Blackfire, either hand-gathered and thrown or channeled through a _diacha_, worked well but only at close range. _I don't know if I'll be able to help, but maybe I can help the ground troops buy some time until help comes._ Khri grabbed at light pole when the earth rolled under her feet. After the shaking stopped she pressed on, running down streets turned obstacle courses.

Her first goal was to get as close to the conflict as possible before opening the capsule containing the VTOL and her armor. She'd spent a whole afternoon clomping around the house in it just to get accustomed to its bulk and weight. Overall the suit had been very light and flexible but there was no way she'd want to run a marathon in it.

Khri ducked into an open doorway long enough to catch her breath and glare at the empty sky. As more and more of the city fell the air had thickened, making it difficult to see beyond the lowest rooftops. _Dammit, Piccolo, where are you?_ She pulled out the communicator and was startled to find his position hadn't changed! That could mean he either wasn't paying attention to the warning beacon or the communicator had been damaged. She tucked it back in her pocket, just in case, wiping her sweating palm off on her torn jeans and running for the next street.

Satan City was literally going to hell, and fast. A water main had ruptured, sending a pressurized fountain up through a huge crack down the middle of the street. It fell back as a fine mist, taking with it some of the smoke and dust clogging the air. Khri brushed her damp bangs out of her eyes and saw what she'd been hoping to find. She splashed through the river forming in the gutter and sprinted into the cool shadows of an empty mechanic's garage. She kicked aside abandoned tools, fished a capsule out of her pocket, pressed the thumb tab and gave it a toss.

The VTOL had just enough room inside the garage, but not enough space to completely open the side door. Khri squeezed inside and scrambled to the back. The cargo area was empty except for two things; her knapsack and the House Guard armor. She shucked off her Earth clothes and tugged on the form-fitting undersuit, nearly taking a tumble when the VTOL's floor rocked from a nearby blast.

Setting her helmet on the floor beside her, Khri emptied her clothes' pockets and took a quick inventory. The communicator was still showing Piccolo's position as unchanged. "The damn thing must be broken," she muttered, angrily stuffing her ripped clothing into her knapsack. Once everything – including the VTOL – had been tucked safely back into the capsules, they all would fit snugly into one of the utility boxes on her belt. Her _diacha_ snapped securely into clamps on the armor protecting her thigh. The communicator she attached to her belt, just in case the thing really wasn't broken and Piccolo simply wasn't paying attention, but given his concern that was hard to believe. Helmet tucked under her arm, Khri crawled out the large rear hatch, encapsulated and stowed the VTOL, then took a deep breath. Coiling her braid at the back of her neck and tucking in the ends, she pulled on the helm and activated the life systems and scan grid.

The enhanced view the helmet provided wasn't needed to see the massive destruction up and down the block. Khri was impressed at the speed in which the city had been evacuated but if the stories were true, the planet was pretty experienced in dealing with unknown attacks. A child had dropped a toy during the exodus; the fabric dog was missing an eye, but by its worn look it had probably been lost long ago. Eyeing the remnants of the facade of a lavish restaurant, Khri felt a moment of sadness for all the lives that would have to be rebuilt. _Easier to rebuild than bury,_ she assured the plush dog. _Time to get to work. _

The block currently hosting the battle was in its latter stages of demolition through warfare. A large brick building had collapsed into a mountain of twisted steel and debris, cutting the street in half. Bodies, most of them human, lay strewn across the side of the pile that sloped down to where a group of soldiers were positioned. Telkarri lined the entire length of the barrier, holding steady against the constant barrage of shoulder-fired missiles that exploded harmlessly against their shielding. From her hiding place behind the burned-out shell of a bus, Khri made a quick head count and grimaced. Fewer than fifty visible troops with a handful of tanks and supply trucks were struggling to hold the bugs back, loading missiles and shells into launchers and mortars at a furious pace. The line of Telkarri bulged on the western end, surging forward in a nightmare chorus of screeches, only to be halted by an intense but short stream of heavy weapons fire. _At that rate they'll be running out of ammo soon, and I don't know if they're expecting reinforcements. They won't last more than ten marks._

A red warning light flared on the compact display screen inside her helmet. There was a very large natural gas leak close by. She guessed earlier that not all the explosions were battle-related and the presence of this new hazard just confirmed it. Satan City, like so many cities on other worlds, had service tunnels just below street level in which they ran supply lines. What was normally taken for granted by the inhabitants could now cause serious trouble for the overwhelmed troops. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the faint smell of charred flesh and acid, Khri left her cover and scrambled through the rubble towards the tanks.

The first man she encountered was loading his arms with rockets from the back of a battered supply truck. Before he could go for his weapon she grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. "I need to speak to your captain," she shouted. His eyes bulged at the sight of her, but before he could stammer a reply a massive explosion shook both ground and air, making them both turn and look.

Someone had fired a large rocket at one of the few tall buildings still standing. The top stories were coming down in large chunks that buried nearly a dozen Telkarri in rubble. _They're catching on,_ Khri noted, but knew it wouldn't make a difference in the end. The premature cheer that ran through the battered company didn't give her own hopes a needed boost. Khri turned back to the soldier who stared at her, his terrified eyes round in a face covered with dirt and streaked by sweat. "I need to speak to your captain, now!" She gave him a hard shake. "I have information on what it is you're fighting!"

He swallowed, then nodded. "This...this way," he croaked, not letting go of his rockets as he led her towards the front line.

The smoking launcher that had taken out the building was in the process of being reloaded. The captain, a man nearly as tall as Khri herself, dropped to one knee and fired. His intended victim, an upscale apartment building, disappeared briefly in a cloud of smoke before sending a cascade of brick and steel down on the Telkarri. It fell perfectly on the left side of the line, making the Telkarri scramble to fill in the gap and restart their forward momentum.

The captain shook his head and stood up. "Its no good, sargent. We're running out of ammo and buildings..." When he saw Khri, his jaw tightened and he motioned for his men to keep firing. "Who the hell are you?"

The Telkarri had already filled the gap with fresh Yellows, a sign Khri took as both good and bad news. If they still had stupid Yellows to throw away they had a lot of bugs on the ground. It also meant what was left of the company probably wouldn't have to face a Green or, worse yet, a Blue. She abandoned her escort and made her way over to the captain, hands out and palms up. "Someone familiar with those creatures. Do you have reinforcements on the way, Captain...?"

"Ertel." He spat as he eyed the slowly clearing cloud of debris. "And no, dammit, not that its any of your business. What you see is what we've got and its not enough. All the air cover has been redeployed west of the city where most of these things are coming from."

Khri was grateful the helmet gave her voice a hard, metallic edge, just like the House Guard that had paid her a visit. "You know by now you don't have the right weapons to fight them. Dropping the buildings on them was a good idea but it only slows them down and not for very long. Do you have a guess as to how many are behind that barrier?"

The captain's face paled beneath the grime. "Too many. I'd estimate at least a hundred, if not more. They were still swarming around the corner when we dropped the Flyer's Finance building on 'em."

_At least a hundred...dammit to hell, Piccolo, where are you?_ Khri couldn't help but look up. The sky was a brilliant cloudless blue above the haze.

The captain noticed. "You're looking for 'em too, eh? I keep hoping...they've shown up so many times before..."

Khri felt her heart give a painful twist. "They're being notified, Captain. If they knew I'm sure they'd be here. Unfortunately waiting isn't an option anymore; you have to fall back."

One of the troops fired off a large rocket at the shifting line of Telkarri. They'd started rotating their front line, sending bugs with fresh shields to the front and pulling the nearly exhausted ones back. The constant pummeling was eroding the debris barrier quickly. It wouldn't be long before waiting Yellows started to climb over the backs of the ones in front.

"Fall back?" Ertel bellowed, his icy blue eyes bored through her face shield. "How the hell am I supposed to do that? If we stop firing for one second we'll be cut to pieces!" He flung out his arm, gesturing to what was left of the corpses lining the barrier's slope.

"See that building on the left? Yes, I know it's the last tall one still standing. I want you to take it down. It should be enough to force the bugs to shift again and funnel them towards the right. When they do, fall back and cover using the tanks, the trucks and whatever ammo you've got left. Don't spare anything. Avoid firing at that side, though; I'd prefer not to get bombed."

Ertel hefted the rocket launcher to his shoulder. "What do you think you're going to do to hold off those things? You ain't the Great Saiyaman! Just what the hell are you, anyway?"

Khri jerked the _diacha_ free from the thigh clamp and gripped it tightly. Forcing her emotions to the furthest corners of her mind she channeled the cool current of blackfire through both ends, enjoying the snap of the white blades hissing to life. "I'm a soldier, Captain. Just like you. Now take down that building and get ready to retreat."

When the rocket struck the only tall building still standing, it hit farther from the top than Khri would have preferred but the collapse rained down masonry, glass and steel in just the right place. Thermal sensors in the helmet let her see Telkarri heat signatures as they made their anticipated shift. _Please hurry, Piccolo_, she pleaded one last time, sending a surge to her natural shielding before running up the barrier and into the thick cloud of dust.

_Twist, slash, hack, slice and pierce _became Khri's litany as Yellow after Yellow took advantage of the letup in missile fire. Years of drilling let her raise her shield to guard and drop it to attack in a flutter of power switching. Fighting on an upward slope was difficult, especially one made of piled concrete chunks and twisted metal. Shearing off the two front legs of the closest Yellow, Khri ducked behind a block of concrete the size of a small van. One Yellow plunged its front legs into the block and got stuck, slowing down the bugs behind it. She doused one blade and spun around the block, piercing the trapped Yellow through the thorax and cutting upward. It died still trapped, leaking acid around its feet and causing footing to become even more perilous.

_Jump, cut, parry, deflect and chop._ Corpses still hazardous because of their numerous, razor-sharp legs were piling up on either side, forcing Khri to retreat several feet. She was dimly aware of a stinging sensation on the back of her thigh. Honor Guard armor was exceptionally durable but still had its limits when it came to Telkarri acid. While the nearest living Yellows were struggling to shove aside the impeding bodies she spared a glance backward. The troops were indeed falling back, covering their retreat with massive weapons fire. A smaller rocket came a little too close and exploded to Khri's left, knocking Yellows backward and sending her tumbling back down the barrier. She struggled to her feet and looked up, _diacha_ still in hand, swearing when she saw the blast had also knocked loose the concrete block. It started to half-roll, half-slide down the slope towards her, followed by nearly a dozen Yellows. Keeping anger and other interfering emotions in tight check, Khri opened her shield enough to let a blast of blackfire fly. The concrete block exploded but the Yellows merely went around it, the debris merely glancing off their shields. A few more well-aimed bolts slowed them down momentarily and she made a decision.

It was time for her own retreat.

Khri whirled and took off running. The retreating company continued to fire from a growing distance at the Yellows chittering at her back. When she reached the first corner she veered left, racing back down the street that had brought her to the battle. She kept her shielding powered high, partially in hopes Piccolo would suddenly find himself with an intense barrier headache. _It would serve him right,_ she snapped silently as she ran, looking for a position to defend. She found a tight alley off to the right that was partially blocked by a large dumpster. Trash wasn't a deterrent but the huge pile of stinking plastic bags overflowing the top, forcing the lid to stay open and dangling in the way, might slow them down. They were still pursuing her – good for the retreating company, bad for her – and were gaining ground. She slipped between the dumpster and the wall, scrambled through and crouched low around the corner. At that moment she wished for one of Captain Ertel's rocket launchers so she could bring down one building and seal off the alley. The problem was that most of the Yellows would return to attack the company and the rest would find a way around and keep up the chase. Khri ignored her burning leg and the new sting on the back of her shoulder as she gathered a blackfire sphere in her palm.

The first Yellow to appear was squeezing past the dumpster, having to lower its shield to fit through. She killed the stupid creature easily with one blast and took a step backward. Only the rustling of plastic bags and the rattle of empty cans warned her of trouble overhead and thrust upward with her _diacha_. It killed the Yellow but sent down a brief shower of acid as it squealed and landed behind her on its back. Khri pretended not to hear the hissing of pitting armor as she darted around the corpse and ran down the alley. The attacks on the dumpster echoed loudly behind her as she stumbled into a wide, open street.

Unlike most other blocks Fairway Street had taken only minor damage. The traffic signals and neon signs were dark, but most of the windows were still in one piece and the pavement itself was in good condition. Abandoned vehicles, some smashed and some still running on their remaining fuel, were packed so tight that travel by anything other than on foot was impossible. The exhaust fumes were so thick they were seeping through her helmet's filters and making her feel nauseated. Khri headed south, weaving in and out of the maze of cars and trucks. _If I can get far enough south, I might be able to tack west towards the main battle._ Her helmet's display flickered, then dimmed. The acid was starting to burn its way through the sensor grid. _Hopefully I can find a commanding officer who..._

A amplified roar echoed through the artificial canyon. Khri jumped on the hood of an idling taxi and tore off her failing helmet for a better view. A handful of Royal Army fighters raced overhead, headed west. _Looks like someone other than Captain Ertel is getting reinforcements...not that it will make a difference._ She spared a glance at her helmet. Its shiny surface was pitted with a lacework of burn holes from the acid shower, damaging it beyond repair. She left it on the taxi's hood and jumped to her feet when she saw a flash in the sky.

The figure was distant and the glare made it difficult to see, but there was no mistaking the spiky black hair, the angry scowl and the Saiyan-influenced armor. _Vegeta! Its about time, you royal pain the ass! That means Piccolo, Trunks and maybe even Goten can't be far behind!_ Vegeta was following the Royal Army planes at his own speed and he appeared to be searching for something. Khri leaped to the taxi's roof and to wave him down but stopped herself. _They need him at the front lines. Hell, he could destroy the Telkarri by himself...I just hope he doesn't get carried away and damage the planet!_ Lettering herself indulge in a little hope Khri flared her shielding, praying that a certain Namek was looking in the right direction.

The screech of tearing metal made Khri gasp and turn. From her perch on the taxi's roof she felt hope die as the first wave of Telkarri Yellows flooded into the street from the alley. From further north a second wave rounded the corner and merged with the first. Khri leaped to a limousine's trunk, a tendril of fear escaping from her mind's corner only to be battled back. It was hard to ignore the clanking thunder of serrated forelimbs pounding on sheet metal and pavement behind her as she moved from vehicle to vehicle. A Yellow managed to move fast and get close enough to sweep her feet from under her, but Khri slashed it out of the way and rolled to a standing position. Several more followed and were cut down but at a price; Khri could now feel acid burning through the back of her arm and knee. Three Telkarri slowed their forward motion, suddenly wary, and she made good use of the time by running.

Leaping from the dented hood of an old pickup truck to the back seat of a convertible sedan, Khri frowned at the sheer number of vehicles packed in so tightly. She never had to touch the street thanks to a convenient trunk, hood or flatbed. When she landed on the roof of a delivery truck and paused to catch her breath she saw the source of the traffic jam.

A huge, multi-storied parking garage loomed ahead, creating a dead end. Vehicles had to turn left, right, or proceed straight through the gate leading into the shadowy first floor. A routine lunchtime commute must have ground to a standstill very quickly and the terrified drivers, trapped in the crush, had fled on foot. A dark garage had to be one of the most dangerous places she could think of but there wasn't time to stop and consider other choices. Through the first floor of the garage Khri thought she could see daylight on the other side. The top floor looked as if a huge bite had been taking out of one side, but most of the structure was still intact. _I'm out of options,_ she told the sky, searching for any sign Piccolo's gleaming white cape. _I never did believe in miracles...but I've a feeling its time to try. Its all I've got left._ Giving her shield one last surge of power, Khri darted around van trapped in the gate and raced into the garage.

A cool breeze laced with the stench of smoke, spilled fuel and exhaust fumes brushed Khri's cheek. Like the street outside, the garage entrance was packed with vehicles but with even less space between them. The low overhead clearance made moving from car to car difficult, forcing her to stay between the massive steel joists or risk hitting her head. Echoes carried the sounds of Telkarri moving both inside and around the garage. _They're on the second floor too,_ she realized when huge crash echoed down the nearby ramp and between the concrete support pillars. Panting, she picked up her pace and scrambled from perch to perch until suddenly there were no more perches.

The back of the garage didn't have an exit. The ramps from the upper decks had channeled forced all traffic to the front, leaving the rear empty. It would be a quick sprint to the side and then a short jump, leaving her clear and back in daylight. The plan might have worked if there weren't Telkarri stationed around the outside of the garage. Their heads and upper mandibles hovered above the retaining wall as they shifted back and forth, waiting for their prey to be flushed out. A quick count put them at fourteen and more could be waiting to take their places if they fell.

Khri watched the dappled figures and shuddered. Nearly a dozen Yellows were still advancing on her from behind. They had slowed to a crawl, either reluctant to take the initiative when she'd butchered so many or savoring the moment before the kill. She ducked behind one of the thick support pillars and pressed her back to the concrete, noticing for the first time how badly pitted her body armor was. It wouldn't hold up against tough blows. She slid down and held her unpowered _diacha_ vertically in front of her.

Two Yellows appeared at the same time from around both sides of the pillar. They struck at where her head should have been but Khri's crouching position let her take out their legs first. They screeched in agony as she lunged for the next pillar, keeping it between herself and the subsequent Yellows that closed in. Only a last-second roll let her keep her arm and a risky vault between the joists saved her neck.

Khri didn't keep count of the oozing, stinking corpses she left on the floor. Minutes stretched and seconds fractured with each lunge, block and swipe of her blades. Acid seared her cheek but she didn't have the breath to hiss at the pain, instead letting it strengthen her resolve and add a bit more strength to her weakening shield. The constant running, dodging and jumping left her no time to gather enough power for a blast. The tip of a serrated leg went flying and Khri brought the _diacha_, in sword form for close work, up to guard her face from the next assault.

It didn't come.

Panting and feeling her legs tremble with exhaustion, Khri looked around. Complete bodies and bits of dead Telkarri were strewn across the floor of the garage. Pooling acid was eating through the concrete, sending small, hissing clouds of noxious gas into the air. The pain in her cheek was becoming more than a nuisance and she knew it would leave a scar. The Telkarri hovering outside the garage had moved away from their posts and were streaming over the wall. She took a deep, shaky breath, admitted to herself she was terrified and then shoved the useless emotion away. Her shove became a scramble to keep the fear away when the Telkarri converged behind one that was bigger than the rest. Its color and dappling were different and she knew it could speak if it wanted to.

The Blue, having more brain cells than every Yellow on Earth combined, was keeping a respectful distance. Standard practice would be to throw the Yellows at her first to exhaust her and then advance to make the kill. Blues were intelligent but not very creative, and to find one that deviated from standard procedure was rare. Khri's focus sharpened when an idea sparked to life. Had this batch seen her little crouch-and-cut stunt with the pillar while stationed outside? _Guess now is a good time to find out!_

Khri whirled and ran towards the dark center of the garage, inciting angry shrieks from the Telkarri. She threw herself behind a column and slid down. The Yellows streamed around both sides at the same time. Khri smiled in grim satisfaction as her _diacha_ bit into the pillar when she swung wide, adding concrete chips to the severed limbs of two Telkarri. She rolled between the next two that rushed her, got to her feet and scrambled to the next support. They attacked low so she went high, using the _diacha_in pole form to vault behind them and split their thoraxes. Skipping the nearest two pillars and running for the third, Khri gathered blackfire in her free hand. She whipped it backward over her shoulder and heard it hit something solid as she flung herself sideways and threw her back against a column.

The ground shuddered with the intensity of a massive earthquake. Khri felt the entire garage sway slightly and the air filled with a fine white dust. _That wasn't from the Royal Army!_ She raced for a different pillar, hoping the Telkarri wouldn't notice in the confusion. _Earth ammo isn't that strong unless they're using nuclear bombs, and I don't think they would do it now that Vegeta is here._ It was easy to imagine the Saiyan hovering over the fields to the west of the city, casually blasting hundreds of Telkarri with one swipe of his hand. The thought breathed new life into her dwindling hopes, enough to decide she was tired of being on the defense. Anger clamped down and fear walled safely away, Khri used her fading power to reinforce her shielding and adjusted her grip on her _diacha._

Telkarri didn't anticipate very well; it required creativity. They actually startled when their adversary sprang out from behind a support, white blades spinning, and began dissecting Yellow after Yellow with short, quick strokes. Soon only the Blue was left standing.

Khri panted heavily as the Blue stalked forward. Unlike the Yellows its movements were slow and deliberate, giving her plenty of time to appreciate its predatory appraisal of her as it sidled to her left. Sweat dripped down the side of her face, dipping into the painful acid burn before snaking down to her chin. She was nearly exhausted and the Telkarri knew it; she guessed it was deciding on the best way to cut her to pieces without losing a limb itself. Even a fatigued Leonid was still a formidable enemy. There were plenty of steaming corpses stinking up the garage to attest to it.

When the Telkarri lunged Khri was ready. It went straight for her head but she fell on one knee before it could strike and whipped one end of her _diacha_ straight up, igniting the blade as soon as it came in contact with the thorax. She wrapped both hands around it when the Blue screamed and flailed backward. She doused the blade and backed into a standing position, her upper back against a pillar.

The dying Blue had one last attack which was both unexpected and unintentional. Khri didn't have time to feel surprise before a serrated forelimb, propelled forward by the Blue's weight and mass, pierced her armor and went through her left shoulder. It sunk deep into the concrete with a dull thud.

A wall of pain obliterated her sight for what felt like forever. Khri forcibly blinked her vision back and stared down in shock and disbelief at the thick, saw-toothed leg pinning her to the pillar. Her left arm dangled uselessly, forcing her to drop her _diacha_ so she could grab the limb impaling her and pull herself up. The Blue's foreleg had been moving in an upward motion when it skewered her, pushing her high against the pillar so she had to stand on her toes not to hang from it. Breathing was difficult and growing more so, and she could feel blood dripping down the inside of her armor. _You panic...you die_, she told the emotions that wanted to scream out in fear and agony.

Clinging to the forearm because letting go would probably be lethal, Khri struggled against the pain and tried to focus on the internal damage. _Lung punctured and headed for collapse...arteries bone and shoulder blade shattered...no acid inside, though...lots of...internal bleeding...dammit!_ There wasn't a thing she could repair. Any feeble mending would only buy her time calculated in minutes, not hours. She used the last of her strength to flare her shield one more time. _Piccolo..._ Closing her eyes and fighting her body's desire to pass out, Khri struggled to slow the blood loss and the sensation of her life being carried away with it.

_To Be Continued..._

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AN: This was a very challenging chapter to write. I think I had three files open at the same time just trying to keep things consistent! The Fleetwood Mac lyric reference was intentional. I promise not to wait too long before posting Chapter 17...it's half written already! 

Dreamwraith: Sorry for the cliffhanger. I obviously can't promise it won't happen again ;-)

If you've seen news footage of reporters being filmed on location in Iraq, you'll have a good idea of what Khri sees naturally. Her night vision is nearly clear and combines reflective-based (cats) and infared. Only in her case it's amber, not green :-)

TiffyAngel: Glad you're enjoying the story. Just remember – good things come to those who wait! (Wink)


	17. When You Fall, Part 2

Errant Exile

Chapter 17:_ "When You Fall - Part 2"_

AN: This chapter has an extra advisory for gore.

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For the third time in less than an hour, Piccolo found himself at the bottom of a pile of broken rock. He stood up, brushed the shards from his gi, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and launched himself back into the fight. 

Goten and Trunks were _finally_ starting to improve. Weeks of pounding, kicking, pummeling and the occasional chi bolt to the backside by either Vegeta or himself were just part of the reason; the boys had been given a new incentive by the tournament sponsors. Dissatisfied with the small number of entries they'd received, the sponsors had decided to sweeten the pot. The top prize now stood at nearly a million zeni. Trunks said he didn't care about the money but the thought of Goten possibly winning without a good challenge was too irresistible a lure. Today Goten had partnered with Piccolo and Trunks with his father, and together they were trying to teach themselves how to work as a team.

The 'team' part still needed a lot of improvement.

Moving faster than a casual eye could follow, Piccolo slammed his knuckles into the side of Trunks' face. The boy spun backwards but only for a second; he unleashed a worthy salvo of punches in return and found each one neatly deflected.

"Hey!"

Trunks looked up at the sound of the friendly shout, giving Piccolo an opening to plant a well-placed kick. Lavender hair flying and eyes bulging, Trunks flew backwards and skidded across the field, leaving a furrow through the already mangled grass. Piccolo's lip curled into a small, satisfied smile. "That's what letting yourself get distracted will get you, kid. A rough ride on your backside." He wasn't about to admit he'd sensed Gohan several minutes ago.

Shirt collar open and tie nowhere in sight, Gohan landed softly and dropped his briefcase on the ground. "The seminar ended early today so I thought I'd come see how practice was going." He stood between Piccolo and Vegeta, watching as Trunks picked himself up off the ground, red faced and rubbing his wounded pride with both hands. "How are those two shaping up?"

"Better than last week." Vegeta showed no signs of wear and tear as he folded his arms, brows scrunched in his trademark scowl. "It seems they prefer bribes to honest training."

Gohan fished his glasses out of his pocket. "I heard about the prize! Videl's been dropping hints she'd like to take a cruise during the holidays..."

Shaking the dirt from his thick hair, Goten grinned sheepishly. Both he and Trunks wore old jeans and ratty tee shirts stained with grass and blood. "Not a chance, big brother! You're so out of shape that even Kuririn could wipe the floor with you! Oh...speaking of Kuririn, does anyone know if Eighteen is going to compete?"

Gohan shook his head. "Last I heard she was still undecided. Now that the ante has been upped it wouldn't surprise me if she did. She and Marron have shopping habits to support, you know," he added with a wry grin.

"But who's team would she be on?" Goten wondered. "We're limited to four fighters per team, and I don't know if Yamcha or Tien are going to fight. Even then they'd need another teammate."

Vegeta snorted. "If you'd bothered to read the entire flyer, you'd know fighters are grouped into random teams if they're not already part of one."

Trunks finished brushing the worst of the debris from his clothes and hair. "I've been wondering about something. I know we're supposed to work as a team, but what if Goten and I were to do the fusion dance? We'd still technically be two people, just more powerful! The audience and the judges would never expect that! We'd need to start practicing now so we..."

"Absolutely not!" Piccolo snapped, hands curling into fists. He had to fight the urge to grab their ears and knock their wooden heads together. "You two are_ never_ to use that technique again..._ever_! You'd only make complete fools of yourselves and this stupid team we've put together!"

Trunks and Goten both froze in fright; Trunks clamped a hand over his mouth. "Why'd you have to bring _that_ up?" Goten whispered angrily, knocking him in the ribs with an elbow.

Piccolo wasn't finished. He grabbed their shirt fronts and jerked them forward, reminding them there was muscle behind his threat. "If I catch either one of you even _thinking_ about pulling that stunt – in the tournament or anywhere else – I'll knock you both on your sorry asses so hard you'll be..."

"Somebody's coming!" Vegeta interrupted.

Gohan shielded his eyes against the sun, then gasped. "It's Pan!"

Piccolo released the two boys and followed Gohan and Vegeta's stare. Pan hovered far overhead, then put on a burst of speed and rocketed towards them. She braked hard just a few feet shy of hitting the ground, nearly smashing into Gohan's chest. She wrapped her arms around her father's neck. "Daddy! I finally found you!" Angry tears cascaded down her round little face. "You and Mr. Piccolo have to come now!"

"Pan, honey, slow down!" Gohan wrapped his arms around his daughter and held her tightly as she buried her face in his shirt. "Now, take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong."

Pan pulled away from his shoulder, wiped her nose with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. "Grandma and Ms. Bulma and Khri and me were all eating lunch and these people started running by the windows and they were scared 'cause they were being chased by a bunch of big bugs and then Khri told every body they needed to leave and then she said..."

"Hold on." Gohan hushed her with a finger to her lips. He looked up at Piccolo, his eyes wide. "Bugs!"

Piccolo felt as if a shell of ice had formed around his heart. Before Khri had left for Satan City she'd never mentioned that Pan would be joining the lunch party, but she might not have known. If there was trouble Khri had promised to contact him..._the communicator!_ Prior to sparring he'd put it inside his weighted turban, then wrapped it in a single fold of his cape so it could still be heard if it went off. He raced over to the distant cluster of boulders where he'd stashed the fragile-looking thing and was confronted with a huge pile of rubble. "Dammit!" he snarled, digging in with both hands. Goten and Trunks joined him, taking positions around the pile and earnestly searching. They'd been curious as to why Piccolo would carry such a thing especially after he raged at Trunks for bringing his cell phone, but the fierce expression on his face encouraged them to keep their questions to themselves.

"I found it!" Trunks' brushed away the last heavy stones and whipped off Piccolo's cape. His triumph faded when he found the communicator. It had fallen out of the overturned turban and was covered in pebbles and dust. The top corner had been crushed, taking out most of the screen. Delicate conductive fibers dangled uselessly from its shattered casing. "Piccolo, I'm sorry. I don't think I can fix this..." he said sadly, handing it over.

Piccolo stared at the wreckage a moment, cursing himself for more reasons than he had time to mentally list. He threw the device away and hurried back over to Pan and Gohan. "Pan's told me a little more," Gohan said, his face pale. "It sounds like these creatures have overrun Satan City. Khri told Mom and Bulma to head east and get out of town. She also sent Pan," he tousled her hair and she managed a small smile, "to tell us what was happening and get help." He looked to the sky in the direction of the distant city. "Now that I know what's happened, I can feel it...the panic, the fear..."

"Dad?" Trunks looked worriedly at Vegeta. "What about mom? Do you think she and ChiChi got out?"

Vegeta's smile was sarcastic but faint lines appeared around his eyes. "That woman could scream the bugs into submission if she wanted to. I'm sure she's fine but we'll keep an eye out for her."

Gohan released Pan and she hovered midair. "Honey, I want you to do what Khri said and go straight to your grandma's house. I want you to wait there until one of us comes for you. Its ok to answer the phone if it rings because it could be your mom."

Tears welled in her eyes again. "But daddy..."

"No buts! Think of it as part of the mission Khri gave you." He reached out and brushed a lock of Pan's thick hair away from her face. "It's important, Pan. Stay at Grandma's and be brave. We'll come as soon as we can."

Pan nodded and wiped her eyes again. "Oh...ok. I'll go to Grandma's."

Teeth grinding with impatience, Piccolo watched Pan give her father a quick hug and shoot into the sky. _Dammit Khri...you're fighting alone, aren't you? What were you thinking? How am I supposed to find you when you don't have chi? _He was itching to take flight himself and find Khri; it was the only thing that would stop the guilt gnawing at him. _I knew this was a bad idea!_

He looked down to find Vegeta watching him. He was sneering, as usual, but his head was cocked to one side in curiosity. "Tell you what, Namek. I'll take Trunks and play exterminator while you, Gohan and Goten look for your pretty Leonid. If you can't find her, we'll come back and help you look through the corpses."

Eyes narrowing, Piccolo restrained himself from responding physically to the taunt. "If you want to go squash bugs, fine by me."

Hand raised in a mocking salute, Vegeta took off so fast a cloud of dust spiraled into the air behind him, leaving the rest of them coughing and rubbing their eyes. Trunks shook his head ruefully and raced after his father.

Wiping at his watering eyes, Gohan tucked his glasses back into his pocket. "Piccolo, I know I'm rusty, but I'll do everything I can to help find Khri."

"Then let's stop wasting time," he growled and shot upward, Gohan following close behind.

From several kilometers away smoke could be seen rising from multiple locations in Satan City. Piccolo could make out the distant roar of Royal Army planes circling the scene and artillery fire. The gleaming skyscrapers that had once been the pride of the city were gone, including the majestic Continental Hotel, replaced by thick columns of smoke that filled the air with ash. He could feel Vegeta's chi and knew the arrogant idiot wasn't going out of his way to get there quickly; he was either being deliberately slow and wanting to prolong the battle or was searching the ground for signs of Bulma and ChiChi. The latter excuse was too altruistic for Piccolo to swallow. Trunks didn't wait and flew straight to the where the noise and smoke were most concentrated. _At least he'll keep Vegeta from taking out the planet as well as the bugs._

'Piccolo! Do you know what's going on in Satan City?' Dende's shout was painfully loud inside his head.

'We're almost there, but I need to know...what are you seeing?'

He felt Dende widen his focus to include Gohan in the conversation. 'The city is being attacked by those creatures that landed the same time Khri did. Almost a hundred of their ships landed just west of the city! Almost everyone evacuated to the east, but there are still people trapped downtown. Anyone the creatures find they kill, and the Royal Army is doing just as much damage with their bombs and weapons trying to fend them off. Its almost as if they're looking for something...'

'Dende, what about Khri? Can you see her?'

'Let me look...Piccolo, I can't find her, but she doesn't use chi, remember? She might as well be invisible!'

Gohan gave him a mental nudge to get his attention. 'Piccolo, do you know how we can find her? Satan City is a big place and if we can't use chi to sense her...'

The thought had occurred to Piccolo before Dende's frantic hail.. 'I have to get close to the city. I can't explain how it works, but there's a technique we've experimented with that might help.' _If she's still alive_, he thought, then immediately shoved that notion away as they reached the outskirts of the city. _She's alive. She's too experienced, too clever...she's got to be alive._ His own refusal to believe otherwise surprised him, but now wasn't the time to waste on sentiments like new friendship. He wouldn't have that friendship anymore if anything happened to her...

Piccolo stared down in awe at the streets below. Every building for at least a square mile either had all the windows blown out, was riddled in gaping holes or had been reduced to piles of rubble. Cars and trucks had been smashed and tossed around like toys in a sandbox. A broken main sent a steady stream of water into the air from the cracked street and turned the gutter into a minor river. Goten whistled. "Piccolo, how are we ever going to find Khri in that mess? Its like looking for a needle in a haystack that's been spread across a field!"

"There are soldiers down there, and it looks like there might be a few civilians too." Gohan pointed to a flat roof where a handful of people were huddled. The corner had collapsed and blocked off the stairway, leaving them trapped but out of danger for the moment. "Maybe we should ask if anyone has seen her?"

"It's a waste of time she might not have." Piccolo felt Gohan and Goten regard him anxiously. "I need you to be quiet so I can concentrate."

In spite the urgency and need, Piccolo felt his cheeks turn purple with embarrassment as he noted his position relative to the eastbound street and closed his eyes. He began to turn like a weathervane in a slow, steady breeze.

"Piccolo, what...?"

"Quiet!" Khri's little game of Blind Man's Bluff had let him practice sensing the empty spot where her chi would be, if she had any. This would be tricky; the huge chi of Vegeta and Trunks off to the west were overwhelming his senses and the bit of chi he used to fly added to the background noise. _Dammit, Khri, where are you? Why didn't you wait for..._

There! Piccolo's eyes flew open and he froze, ignoring the spike of pain shooting through his skill. Khri's blackfire shield was winking on and off erratically like a floodlight with a short. "This way!" He shot towards the south side of the city, leaving Gohan and Goten to keep up.

Sirens wailed as the first emergency crews began to arrive. Ignoring the water trucks struggling to bring a massive factory fire under control, Piccolo kept his focus on Khri's failing shield. At one point it dipped below sensing levels and he had to stop. _Khri, if you die on me..._

"Gohan! Are...are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Goten asked, his voice tight.

Piccolo felt a hand on his arm. "Look down," Gohan said quietly. "Khri left us a trail."

The wide street was packed with cars, abandoned by their drivers after being trapped in the traffic jam. Dead Telkarri littered the entire scene, most of them in pieces, the acid leaking from their bodies hard at work eating the paint and metal of the stranded vehicles.. A noxious smell Piccolo remembered from years ago wafted upward and Goten plugged his nose. "Khri did all that? By herself?"

"I don't doubt it." Piccolo's eyes followed the trail down the street. The bodies became more numerous until the trail dead-ended at a large parking garage. He raced to the gate and landed on the dented hood of a truck. Cars had been trapped just inside the entrance, leaving very little room to walk between them. Metal creaked when Gohan and Goten landed behind him. The emergency lights were off and the shadows were thick inside the first floor. Anything lying in wait for a victim would have a good chance of not being seen. "Gohan, take the second floor. Goten, go up to the third. I'll check this one. Be careful; those things move fast." The brothers nodded, then flew carefully beneath the low ceiling towards the ramp leading upwards.

Flying horizontally over the maze of cars, Piccolo headed towards the back of the garage. He held a fold of his cloak over his nose and mouth, trying to keep from breathing in the fumes produced by the acid dissolving concrete. The further back he went the fewer the cars became until he finally passed the last one, another Telkarri corpse draped across its mangled roof. There was nothing but columns and corpses between his position and the far retaining wall and no sign of a blackfire shield. Fists clenching in frustration, Piccolo took a deep breath through the cloak fabric. "Khri!"

A faint rattle sounded far off to the left. _It could be her...it could also be more of these things..._he spun around and raced towards the source of the echo, passing column after column, all with corpses sprawled at their base. He rushed around a ramp leading down from the second floor and froze.

"Kh...Khri!"

Clinging to the talon that had pierced her shoulder and pinned her to a column, Khri's head was slumped forward. Her House Guard armor was gouged, dented and pitted and her helmet was gone. Her eyes were tightly closed and her entire body was trembling. Struggling to control his own shaking, Piccolo climbed past the body of the Blue, careful not to move or jar it. He reached out and gently placed his hand on her forehead, pushing her head up. "Khri!"

She opened her eyes. They were barely glowing and her pupils, normally as clear and amber as her irises, were dilated and cloudy. Acid had scorched her cheek, digging deep and narrowly missing her eye. Her breath was coming in short, shallow pants. "Pih...Piccolo?" she whispered.

"Don't talk. We're going to get you to Dende," he said gruffly. 'Gohan! I...I found her...she's...'

Before he could finish Gohan appeared beside him. As neglected as his skills were, Gohan could still teleport when his emotions ran high. "Piccolo!" His eyes were round and his face pale. "Oh no..."

"Gohan, Hold her up! Hurry! Her weight is hanging on that thing!"

Gohan slipped underneath the huge talon and gently grasped Khri around the waist. He pushed up and tried not to push back at the same time. "Piccolo, she's bleeding a lot but it should be worse! How could she live through this?"

The air whistled and Goten appeared, his face just as horrified as his brother. "Oh...what do you want me to do?" he asked Piccolo, voice shaking.

"Be quiet! Dende, can you hear me?"

'I can hear all of you,' the shaky voice rang in all three heads. 'I'm ready for her!'

Still supporting her head, Piccolo took her face in both his shaking hands. Her skin was cold and turning a pale yellow. "Khri, I know you're keeping yourself from bleeding to death. Don't stop! We're going to get you out of this!"

"Suh...city? S...safe?"

"You want to talk _now?_ Vegeta and Trunks are taking care of the rest of the bugs. They're not your problem anymore, so shut up and concentrate on what you're doing!" His shout echoed back to him, angry and terrified. "Talk later," he whispered hoarsely, bringing his face close to hers. "Fight _now._"

Goten tore off his old tee shirt and wadded it up. He shoved it between Gohan's arm and the Blue's body to keep acid from dripping on him. "Can't you just teleport her to the Lookout now?"

"If you had been serious about training," Piccolo growled, "you'd know there are limits to it. Khri is trapped by both the bug and the pillar, which is attached to the garage. Nobody, not even Goku, can teleport that much dead weight. And Dende can't heal her with this sticking out of her."

Gohan carefully moved Khri's dangling left arm, trying to make her more comfortable. "Even if we could, there are people trapped on the upper floors! This building is already damaged. If we took the pillar with us it could collapse!"

Piccolo looked over the situation one more time and grimaced. He gave Khri's head a little shake to rouse her and glared into her dimming eyes. "Khri, we're going to have to cut the thing's leg and pull you off." Ignoring the gasp from Goten and the groan from Gohan he went on. "You can't black out! Do you hear me? You've got to keep yourself from bleeding to death!"

Incredulity at his demand forced its way though her agonized expression. She stared at him, her struggle to breath worsening, then rasped, "I'll...try."

"You'll do better than try," he growled softly, leaning his forehead against hers, antennae burrowing into her hair. "You're going to focus, you're going to fight, and you're going to live." He glanced off to the side. "Gohan, you know what to do?"

Gohan traded places with his brother, letting Goten keep Khri's weight from hanging on the talon. His chi surged and his right hand began to glow. "Ready when you are."

'So am I,' came Dende's thought. He had boosted his own power level, giving Piccolo a stronger point to focus on when he teleported.

Piccolo nodded and looked back at Khri. He gripped her face a little tighter, trying not to notice the blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. "Just focus and fight. We'll be fast." His left arm circled her waist and he pulled his right shoulder back out of Gohan's way. "Now!"

Gohan's ki sliced cleanly through the Blue's talon with a surgeon's precision. Without support its body fell forward as it collapsed but Gohan blasted it back, sending it skidding towards the retaining wall. As soon as the body was clear Piccolo threw his other arm around Khri as Goten released her, held her tightly and pulled. He felt her stiffen as the wider, cut end went through her shoulder and out her back, taking bits of her with it. "Fight, dammit!" he growled in her ear as he reached up and put two fingers to his eye ridge. Determined not to think about or feel the wet warmth soaking into his gi, he clenched his teeth, focused on Dende's chi and vanished.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

AN: Yes, its another cliffhanger! This isn't where I had intended on ending the chapter, but it was getting too long. I didn't want to get any more sparse when it came to detail. 

Dreamwraith: I had the basic concept for the Telkarri years before "Starship Troopers" came out. I'd never read the book, either. When I saw the movie I loved the way they moved and attacked, so I adopted a lot of their style. VERY good guess!

The Fleetwood Mac song is "You Make Lovin' Fun." The phrase was about miracles. The chorus is great, the rest of the song is utter crap (sorry, fans!).

Ace & TA: Glad you both enjoyed Ch. 17. There's so much more I have to write yet, its not funny.

Speaking of funny, I'll give you a preview. There's a chapter in the works called "Everyone's a Winner." That one has been simmering a long time and I hope I do it justice. You guys should be ready for a little fun once this section is over.


	18. Elhoi ei Sengrahni

Errant Exile

Chapter 18: "Elhoi ei Sengrahni"

* * *

_Focus. Fight. Live._

Darkness was eating at the edges of her pain, nibbling on the sharp corners and razor thin edges, making them dull. Each bite of the thickening blackness weakened agony's painful grip a bit more. The dark was welcoming, warm and hinted at the end of the suffering, not just the burning fire consuming the skin, sinew and bone she'd known for so long. The numbness began to soak in more deeply, making it hard to remember a time in which she had fingers, arms and an impaled shoulder, or a need to breathe.

_Focus. Fight. Live!_

A distant memory surfaced, drawing close enough for her to actually relive a bit of it. _Those words...I said something much like them a long time ago. But these sound different...and I don't think the voice is mine._

_Focus. Fight. We'll be fast._

Curiosity sparked and its light forced the soothing dark to retreat. The pain gained ground but her thoughts cleared. _I know I never said that and I'm sure that's not my voice! Who is it?_

_Fight, dammit!_

She felt the darkness pulling back as if someone was drawing aside a thick velvet curtain. The curious spark was swallowed by the onslaught of light, noise and a deep, world-encompassing warmth. Lungs expanded and sucked in a deep breath, then took a few more as the pain was whisked away. Fingers began to tingle and moved inside metal-clad gloves. Her nose twitched, assaulted with the metallic smells of blood and acid-eaten metal. There was another scent tickling her nose, but this hinted of salt, sunshine and fresh air.

"That was too close." A shadow fell away and a youthful voice trembled through a sigh of relief.

Khri slowly opened her eyes, blinked, then frowned in confusion. Her face was pressed into folds of warm, purple fabric that draped a harder surface. She could hear breathing that wasn't her own and the muffled sound of a heartbeat. _Where am I and what happened to me? _When she picked her head up she found herself looking into a pair of intense black eyes that stared at her from underneath heavy ridges instead of brows. The expression on the Namekian's sharp, green face was harsh as he brushed something off her cheek with his thumb. "You're all right now. We were fast," he growled gently.

_Piccolo!_

Dende and Gohan appeared behind Piccolo's shoulders. "We're lucky we found you when we did," Gohan said with a smile. One sleeve of his dress shirt was torn off at the shoulder and small holes had been burned through the other. "You gave us quite a scare."

Khri gasped when her memories of the day came rushing back. "The city! Did you save the city?" Her armored hands fisted into Piccolo's gi top. "The Telkarri were all over...I couldn't stop all of them..."

"Vegeta and Trunks are finishing them off," Piccolo rumbled. He glanced sideways at Gohan, the hint of a wry smile on his face. "Once he's done, Vegeta will probably show up here just to gloat."

Khri was unconvinced. "What about Pan? Did she...?"

"Its ok," Gohan interrupted. "Pan found us at the training grounds and told us what was happening. I sent her to my folks' house to wait, then Piccolo, Goten and I came as soon as we could."

"Bulma and ChiChi were in the city with me. Have you heard...?"

Dende wiped the sweat from his brow away with a handkerchief provided by Mr. Popo. "I'm sure Vegeta or Trunks will find them, wherever they are. Oh! Kuririn is on his way!"

A polite cough demanded their attention. Khri and Piccolo both looked up to see Gohan's face quirked in a bright grin, the hint of a blush coloring his face. "Uh...I really hate to interrupt, but you might want to move before Kuririn or anybody else gets here if you don't want to answer a lot of questions."

It took a moment for Khri to figure out what Gohan was hinting at. Her armor shielded her from most physical sensation, so she was surprised to find the pressure around her upper arms and chest was caused by Piccolo's arms wrapped around her. Both of them were on their knees which explained why Dende and Gohan had seemed so tall. Her eyes locked with Piccolo's and self-consciously felt her face heating up. His cheeks were flushing purple as he slowly released her. _Dammit, I can't believe I still can't control this,_Khri growled to herself as she scooted backwards on her knees and stood up. Piccolo got to his feet and pointedly distanced himself from her.

The air next to Dende began to shimmer, then solidified into the shape of a small man with a head of thick, dark hair. Khri's eyes widened in admiration; she'd been teleported twice now but this was the first time she actually got to see someone materialize out of thin air. "Hey!" Kuririn shouted in greeting, his face serious as he rushed towards them. "Eighteen and I were watching a feature on the upcoming tournament when a reporter broke in and said Satan City had been attacked! The guy kept reporting until his truck..." He caught sight of Khri and his voice trailed off, his eyes widening in shock. "You! It was you! I knew it!"

Khri frowned. "Pardon?"

Kuririn's gape transformed into a grin. "There was a news crew trapped on the roof of a building. They shot footage of you fighting your way down a street that was packed with stalled cars. I've never seen anything like it! Eighteen started swearing when the reporter kept calling you a 'he.' As if that wasn't enough, the idiot kept throwing out the possibility of Satan City getting a new Great Saiyaman." He cryptically winked at Gohan but Piccolo just snorted. "They lost sight of you when a nearby explosion shook the building so hard their camera fell and broke."

_Then they didn't see me without my helmet...that's one good thing._ Khri regretted leaving it behind for the authorities to find, but she had to take it off once the screens failed. Toting it into battle would have been just plain stupid. She grimaced at the thought of her image plastered on television screens all over the planet and felt the blush return. She hated good and bad publicity equally and the questions that always resulted.

"That weapon of yours is amazing," Kuririn continued. "It makes me wonder if Bulma could come up with something like it that uses chi...just for the fun of it, of course. We really don't need it."

Khri's hand flew to her thigh and she growled when she found the clamp was empty. "Damn! I dropped my _diacha_when the Blue attacked me!" She shook her head and snarled, "At least nobody can hurt themselves with it. Of all the stupid things to leave behind..."

"Khri, I've got it."

Goten stepped out from the shadows of the pavilion. _Has he been standing there all this time?_she wondered. She couldn't remember seeing him nearby when she'd regained consciousness. His shirt was gone and his jeans were torn and covered with dirt and grass stains, most likely damage done while sparring. His eyes never left the marble tile as he slowly approached her. "I saw this on the ground near where you...you..." His voice quivered and hand clenched around her _diacha_, nails digging into his palm. "I knew you'd want this back."

Khri silently accepted her weapon and snapped it back into the thigh clamp. The ragged edges of her mangled armor dug into her shoulder as she reached out and grasped the young man's arm. "Goten. Please come with me."

The late afternoon sky was starting to fill with clouds, casting shadows on the plains and mountains still visible far below. Gazing over the edge of the Lookout, Satan City and the destruction seemed to be nothing more than an unpleasant memory on such a beautiful day. Khri stood beside Goten and watched him sidelong with a critical eye. _He's not a soldier, but you'd never know it from his symptoms._ She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shifted her stance, standing with feet apart and hands clasped behind her back. "Goten."

His arms were folded tightly across his chest. He refused to look up. "I...I don't want to talk about it."

Khri let her voice soften to a level she hoped Piccolo couldn't hear. "I just wanted to tell you I know how you're feeling. Does it help to know I felt the same way once?"

Haunted brown eyes raised to meet hers. "You...you did?"

She nodded, watching the clouds bump into each other and merge. The spaces between them were growing smaller, their billows slowly crowding out the view of Earth. "It was many years ago. This might surprise you, but I wasn't even part of the military when I fought my first battle." She shrugged her left shoulder. "That's where I got this."

Goten gasped at the sight of her old scars framed by the gaping hole in her shoulder armor. "What...what happened?"

Khri lowered her voice even further. "I was very young. Pan's size and age would be a good comparison." She glanced down at the webwork of gold lines that had started itching. "My family was visiting Geddhi, one of our outer colonies, a beautiful world rich in tropical plants and flowers." She closed her eyes, letting the memory of long lost perfumes tickle her nose. "One night the Telkarri invaded. They overran our compound and killed everyone on sight." She stopped, swallowed, then cleared her throat. "One of the House Guard locked me in a reinforced room. It was built to withstand heavy bombardment in case of emergencies, so that was where I was hidden. I was the only child on the planet at the time, so I spent several hours alone in that dark room. What the Guard didn't expect was the Telkarri tunneling under the grounds and up into the compound. A Green broke into the safe room and...well...you saw a repeat performance today of what happened then."

Goten was shaking but he met her eyes. "How...how did you survive it then when you were so small? Did you have a healer like Dende nearby?"

_I think you and I are both going to have nightmares tonight, Goten!_ "I was found very quickly and wasn't stuck to anything else at the time. As soon as the House Guard had killed the Green they put me in cryo – suspended animation – and shipped me home via fast courier. I spent the next several months in a rehabilitation unit." She smiled grimly. "I think I like Dende's method better."

The young man looked away again. "I can't...can't get that image of seeing you...like that...out of my mind...I thought you were dead."

Ignoring the sharp edges of torn plating digging into her tricep, Khri gripped his arm and turned him to face her. "I thought so too, Goten, but you, Piccolo and Gohan kept that from happening. What you saw today will be part of your life's memory, but you _can_go on. Don't let it control you and don't give it power it doesn't have." She relaxed her hold. "Today you saw what war looks like to those of us who can't use chi the way you do. Its loud, smelly, messy and usually quite bloody. Earth and New Namek are the only known worlds lucky enough to have Dragonballs. On other planets when people die, they stay dead."

Unshed tears were shimmering in his eyes when he finally looked up at her. It was the sign she was looking for, so she pressed on. "Goten, Earth is well protected thanks to people like you, your brother, your father, Piccolo, Dende, Trunks and even that ass, Vegeta. I can't think of another world fortunate enough to have so many capable watchers." She smiled gently. "The best advice I can give you is to keep training and make sure that if war does come to Earth, you're ready for it."

Goten sniffed, then wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Thanks, Khri. I feel so dumb, acting like this...I..." He looked up, his expression brightening. "It's Vegeta and Trunks! They're headed this way!"

Khri nodded. "Good! I want to hear what the outcome was. Vegeta had better be damn sure he destroyed each and every Telkarri as well as their ships."

Satisfied Goten would survive the shock, Khri walked back to where the others waited. Dende wasn't there. She caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared inside the temple, hot on the heels of Mr. Popo. Everyone wore expressions of concern and curiosity except for Piccolo; he was staring at her with eyes that were narrowing by the second, eye ridges furrowed in a deep scowl. Before she could ask him if anything was wrong Vegeta's shape blurred into view, followed less than a moment later by Trunks.

"Well? Did you clean out the city, and did you find Mom and Bulma?" Gohan asked.

Vegeta snorted and crossed his arms. His tight fitting armor bore no signs of having seen combat but Khri knew better. "Feh. The bugs were no challenge at all. Its up to the Royal Army to clean up the smears we left behind. As for the females, it didn't take long to find them." His face contorted into an angry snarl. "That foolish woman of mine was telling a fawning group of reporters how she commandeered a bus and drove all the passengers out of the city, dodging monsters, explosions and gangs of wild animals! Your mother," he jabbed a finger at Gohan, "was giving a pathetic demonstration of how she fought off a raving bus passenger with a kitchen knife!"

"That sure sounds like them," Kuririn grinned, "but why didn't you bring them back here?"

Trunks rolled his eyes. "Mom was too busy mugging for the cameras. She's always believed that any publicity is good publicity for Capsule Corporation. She said the military offered them both rides home after they've been de-briefed." His eyes widened. "I almost forgot! Khri, there was a soldier that was being interviewed by the press. From what I overheard, it sounded like he talked to you but didn't know who you were! He described that armor you're wearing..." he gawked at her damaged shoulder, "...and told how you helped him and his men when they needed to retreat. Whoa, Khri, what happened to you?"

"Later, Trunks." She searched for the man's name. _Captain Ertel. _"He's alive then? So he was able to successfully retreat after all." Khri sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm glad. At least I know I was able to help those soldiers. That's one less loss to the Telkarri."

Khri's eyes flew open and she drew in a sharp breath. "The Telkarri! How the hell did they get past the blockade?" Ignoring the curious stares around her, she opened a compartment of her battered utility belt and found the compact communications array she'd stowed there before leaving for the city. It was a less-powerful version of the bulky command set she wore while on duty, but from the Lookout's high vantage point transmitting and receiving wouldn't be a problem. She walked closer to the edge and adjusted the ear piece until it fit comfortably, then clicked the transmitter to the proper channel. "Battle Commander Khri to _Aughenai_. Respond please."

Faint white noise filtered in through the receiver. Frowning, Khri removed the transmitting array, double-checked the setting and put it back on. "_Aughenai_, this is Khri. A response is requested immediately."

"Khri, is everything all right?" Trunks asked quietly.

Khri tapped the ear piece. "I think something is wrong with this headset. I know I checked it this morning, and the compartment on my belt wasn't damaged during the fight." She listened again, changing the frequency by tiny increments. "All I'm getting is background hiss and no response from the _Aughenai_– my flagship – on any of the channels." She looked up into the deepening blue of the sky above. Clouds now completely cloaked the Earth below and there was a faint hint of moisture in the air. "When I widen the reception I should be able to pick up general chatter, but there's nothing." Her fingers started to tremble and she ripped off the array. Dark clouds were starting to form in the back of her mind but she was determined to ignore them. "There's got to be something wrong with this headset."

"Do you want me to take a look?" Trunks held out a hand. "I probably can't do anything without taking it apart, but if you want an opinion..."

"Yes, please. Delicate equipment repair isn't one of my specialties." She didn't bother to fold it before handing it over. "Maybe its something obvious...?"

Trunks turned the array over and over. "I looks all right...I don't see anything that's loose or broken." He peered at the earpiece, then tugged on one of the antennae. "When the communicator you gave Piccolo was damaged, it was easy to see why it wasn't working. The whole side was crushed."

Keeping her face neutral, Khri looked over at Piccolo and immediately wished she hadn't. His scowl had darkened to the point where a sympathetic rumble of thunder wouldn't have been a surprise. "Is that what happened?"

"It wasn't his fault," Trunks whispered, trying hard not to glance at the seething figure hovering a short distance from the group. "He'd taken special care to make sure it didn't get broken, but sparring got out of hand and...well...it got smashed. We didn't find out about it until just after Pan showed up."

"Thank you for trying, Trunks." Khri sighed. She knew Trunks had a lot of questions – like why she had given Piccolo such a thing and why he'd be willing to put up with it – but the story wasn't hers to tell. _He didn't come because he didn't get the signal,_ she told herself. She frowned when she realized she had been feelings hurt and a little betrayed by his failure to show up. _He would have come if he had known! I'm being foolish for doubting him._ Taking the array back from an apologetic Trunks she put it on, hoping beyond hope the thing would spontaneously volunteer to start functioning again. Keeping the volume down to a minium, she looked over at Piccolo. He was still fuming and the left no doubt as to the source of his anger. "Please excuse me, Trunks," she said softly, then slid her emotionless command mask in place.

Khri had walked directly into Piccolo's fighting stance once before without flinching. His surprise had worked to her benefit at the time, but she doubted it would work twice. "Would you like to tell me why you're so angry with me, or would you prefer to take this someplace else?" she asked calmly.

Fists clenched and jaw set, Piccolo's expression was nothing but barely restrained wrath. She had always felt he looked more formidable in his weighted cloak and turban, but his lowered antennae and bloodstained, battered gi had an intimidation factor all their own. The last time those same black eyes had focused their rage on her he'd been less than a meter tall, dangling by the scruff of his neck at the end of her outstretched arm. Khri blinked as the vivid image of Junior superimposed itself over Piccolo for a split second, then shattered when he roared in fury.

"Just what the hell were you thinking?!" Piccolo's fangs gleamed and corded muscle raised along his neck. "What the hell were you trying to prove, going off to fight alone? You knew we'd come! You knew we'd put a stop to it but you went off on your own anyway!"

Khri's jaw locked tight and she stood straighter. In spite of his verbal assault she refused to flinch or back away; the fact that everyone else was now watching the show gave her extra incentive to hold her ground. It had been years since anyone had dared upbraid her in such a public and insulting manner. _When was the last time someone had the authority to question me like this? _Belligerent superior officers were a thing of her distant past. Piccolo had the belligerent part down but he didn't qualify as a superior anything. She took a long, measured breath, her only defense against the building heat in her face and the roar of blood in her ears.

Her lack of response seemed to add fuel to Piccolo's rage. "Just what the hell did you think you could do by yourself, save the city? Of all the stupid, irresponsible, idiotic things to do! Goten and Trunks would have had better sense..."

A right hand still in an armored gauntlet shot out and grabbed Piccolo's shirtfront. The fabric was tough enough to withstand the hard jerk that nearly pulled him off his feet, shocking him into silence and forcing him to take a step forward. Aware her eyes were glowing so fiercely her irises were lost in the fire, Khri kept pulling him down until his face hovered inches from hers.

"Do you think my rank as Battle Commander is honorary?" Her growl was low and cold, a tone she'd only used a handful of times in her life. The hand not gripping his gi slowly clenched into a tight fist before his eyes. "My hands were stained with the blood of thousands before you were even hatched. I've seen more combat than the most seasoned soldier on this planet, and that includes Vegeta. I've led troops into fights I knew we couldn't win and left parts of myself behind when they died." Fists tightening and fangs bared she asked, "Do you really think you're qualified to judge me or question me when it comes to war?"

Khri felt the last shreds of her blackfire shield dissolve. It was impossible to maintain even light control when her emotions were so wild. "You were too late to help to that captain and his men, but little deaths usually don't matter to great, noble fighters like yourself who consider them beneath..."

"Youngest, while I'm glad to see you're making such a lasting impression on the Namek, I'm afraid I need to interrupt."

Khri's words froze in her throat. That voice, so dear and so rarely heard, brought her tirade to a grinding halt and immobilized her trembling arms and legs. Her indignation and anger fell away, taking the fire from her eyes and allowing her natural shield to reform. She found the nerves that operated her fingers and freed Piccolo's abused gi from her clutches, then slowly turned towards the source of the voice.

Standing between a very wan Dende and a shaken Mr. Popo stood a tall man or, more correctly, the _image_of a tall man. The projection hovered over a flat plate that had been placed on the floor which she recognized as part of the equipment she'd been ordered to give Dende. A thick beard framed his darkly tanned face, making his amber eyes glow more brightly in contrast. _When did his hair turn silver at the temples, _Khri wondered as she took a wavering step towards the projection. He wore his formal House livery, complete with a long cloak that stirred in an unfelt breeze. The warm smile was the same one she'd seen during her last trip Home, just before her security detail had closed the hatch of the shuttle that would ferry her back to the _Aughenai_.

"Who...who's that?" Somebody whispered.

Khri managed to steady her trembling legs and walked gracefully forward. She dropped to one knee in a deep bow, head lowered. "Eldest, Youngest is at your service."

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

"Elhoi ei Sengrahni" - (Translation) Eldest and Youngest 

AN: Sorry for the wait -- the holidaysthrew off my schedule. Hopefully I can get the ball rolling a little faster now.

TA: Thanks for the encouragement! It really did help, and I hope you're still enjoying this madness.

Hinodeh: I really appreciate your kind words, and am glad you like the story. Its always good to get confirmation that what I'm attempting is actually working -

Dreamwraith: Ah, "Simple Gifts" wasn't so simple! I felt like I was walking through a minefield of spoilers. I had to go back repeatedly and make sure I wasn't giving too much away. Let's just say there were stronger motivations for some of Piccolo and Khri's behavior than I could explain, which you'll find out very soon. As to "decking the Saiyans..." it was the Christmas season so I decided to play nice! -

I hope this chapter dealt with some of the reservations you had regarding 17. I finally had to just stop writing this one and let it go; hopefully it makes sense and flows well.

Thanks to everyone for reading!


	19. A Father's Fate

"Errant Exile"

Chapter 19: "A Father's Fate"

* * *

The long weeks Piccolo spent watching Khri had shown him a wide range of her emotions. On the surface she was calm, quiet and serious. Every once in a while she'd flash him a smile, wrinkle her nose in confusion or frown in worry. He had never heard her really laugh or raise her voice in anger.

At least until today.

He found himself staring down in shock at the female he was starting to think of as a friend. Khri's eyes burned fiercely in the full daylight, her pupils lost in the glow and her fangs bared in fury. He was nearly jerked off his feet when she'd grabbed his shirtfront. It had been easy to forget how strong she actually was; he remembered how she had ripped the door off a truck and kicked it under the chassis as if it were made of tissue paper. _She's definitely not like Bulma or ChiChi!_.

"You were too late to help to that captain and his men," Khri growled, tightening her grip on his gi. In that second Piccolo realized something was missing and nearly gasped. _Her shielding is down! It falls when she loses her temper! I wonder If can sense her now...?_ Unaware he wasn't paying attention to what she had to say, Khri continued, "...but little deaths usually don't matter to great, noble fighters like yourself who consider them beneath..."

"Youngest, while I'm glad to see you're making such a lasting impression on the Namek, I'm afraid I need to interrupt."

The quiet, amused voice of a stranger broke Piccolo's concentration and silenced Khri. The light in her eyes vanished as she released his gi, the color draining from her face. They both turned to see who had caused the interruption.

The resemblance was unmistakable. Here was the source of Khri's amber eyes, her yellow hair and her fine-boned features. Piccolo could only guess at the tall man's age but there were faint lines framing his eyes and his smile. Silver streaked the hair at his temples and shone through his thick beard and a faint breeze stirred his long grey cloak. His skin was several shades darker than Khri's, and Piccolo wondered if her skin would be just as dark on her home planet.

"Who...who's that?" Kuririn whispered loudly, voicing the question everyone wanted answered.

Piccolo turned just in time to catch a glimpse of Khri's pale face before she stepped around him. Her gait wobbled just a bit before resuming its normal grace as she walked up to the projection, then lowered herself on one knee. "Eldest, Youngest is at your service," she said quietly, bowing her head.

The older man's smile broadened. "You can drop the formalities, Khri. They're totally unnecessary and we don't have time to waste." He looked over at Vegeta, Trunks, Goten and Kuririn as they stepped closer to the metal projector plate over which his image hovered. Piccolo recognized it as part of the equipment Khri had delivered to the Lookout for Dende many weeks ago. "I'm afraid I can't spare the time for long introductions," he said with a cordial nod, "but I believe I owe Prince Vegeta a personal greeting."

Arms folded defiantly, Vegeta ignored the collective gasp and inclined his head with the barest hint of respect. "Leonid's Eldest. Only two others in the Triumvirate have your rank; the Tigradi Eldest and the Heroni Eldest."

The older man bowed from the shoulders up. "I see you know a bit about our section of space. However, since there's nothing we can say to each other that would carry any meaning beyond today, I must continue on to other matters." He turned back to Khri and noticed her mangled shoulder. His eyes narrowed slightly and his grin was no less subtle. "I'm glad to see that the House Guard armor served you well, Youngest." His eyes looked up to meet Piccolo's, all signs of humor gone. "I'm also glad to see my instincts were correct about those watching over my daughter."

There were several gasps, but Vegeta's mouth quirked into a knowing smirk. "Daughter?" Kuririn, Gohan, Goten and Trunks all asked in unison.

Eldest smiled openly. "Khri is my youngest child. She's also my greatest source of pride. She may be my Youngest, but none of my other children have reached so high and accomplished nearly as much as she has."

Piccolo stole a glance back at Khri. He knew her well enough to recognize her discomfort at the open praise. She took a step closer to the projection and tapped the receiving device covering her left ear. "Father, I have so many questions but most importantly, I...I can't raise the _Aughenai_." Her tone reminded him of a frightened child confessing an irrational fear to an adult. "All I'm receiving is white noise on the open and private channels. It could be a problem with my headset, but...I don't think it is." Khri's arms fell to her sides, her fists clenched. "Eldest...Father...how were the Telkarri able to get through the blockade and reach Earth? The _Aughenai_ and the fleet must have been distracted to allow such a thing to happen. I need answers! I'm useless here on the ground!"

"Useless?" Eldest raised one eyebrow. "Daughter, you're anything but useless. From what Earth's Guardian has told me, you've acted in a manner that saved many lives today, both directly and indirectly."

Khri stiffened. "Did you know this would happen? Is that why you sent me to Earth, and then sent the House Guard armor? Because you suspected the Telkarri were about to breach the blockade?"

"That's a good guess, Youngest, but that wasn't my primary reason for sending you into exile." Piccolo recognized the lines etched into his face; he'd seen lesser ones on both Goku and Vegeta whenever they felt their families were in danger. "I suspected treachery from other sources, which you've already encountered. I never had any indication the Telkarri would make it down to Earth's surface. In spite of what has happened and as harsh as the exile was at the time, I have no regrets in sending you to Earth."

Piccolo's ear twitched and heard Dende hold his breath. _Khri is going to get her answers, and I don't think she's going to like any of them._ He watched as she swallowed hard and struggled to put strength behind her voice. "Eldest? I...I still don't understand..."

Khri's father's smile turned grim and he looked pointedly at Piccolo. "Do you see? My Youngest's greatest strength – her selflessness – can blind her to obvious truths or cause her to miss them entirely." He turned back to face his daughter. "Clever Youngest, haven't you seen it yet? I sent you to Earth to _protect_ you."

Genuinely confused, Khri shook her head. "Protect me from what? I know about the assassination attempt on Commander Ahtai, and the Tigradi have made at least two attempts to kill me! I was just as safe on the _Aughenai_!"

Her father's face suddenly seemed to age, as if time had spun forward decades in the span of seconds. His broad shoulders drooped and his face paled, giving his tanned skin a sallow appearance. "Khri...the _Aughenai_ is gone."

Piccolo ignored the horrified gasps and his own shock when he felt Khri's shielding collapse. _Ah, damn...its worse than I thought._

Khri stood motionless, fists clenching and unclenching, each breath a struggle. "Wh...what?"

Eldest turned to include everyone in the conversation. "The _Aughenai_ was the flagship of the Leonid fleet. She was the Tigradi's main target, one they never could have destroyed if it hadn't been for the mercenaries. Once she'd been taken out of commission, the rest of the fleet didn't stand a chance under the onslaught of both the Tigradi and the mercs." His expression hardened and his eyes flared as he focused on Vegeta. "When Freeza and his father were killed, the Cold Empire quickly fell apart. Most worlds celebrated their newfound freedom and began to rebuild, but some were overrun with lesser warlords and the leftovers of King Cold's armies. They now march at the orders of the highest bidder when they're not squabbling like carrion birds over the remnants of the Cold Empire."

Trunks took a trembling step forward. He'd gone nearly as pale as Khri and his eyes were wide. "I...I had to kill Freeza and his father, Sir! They were going to kill everyone on Earth...I had to stop them!"

Piccolo felt a twinge of sympathy for the young man. Technically he hadn't been the one that chopped Freeza into bits and disemboweled King Cold; _that_ feat belonged to a Trunks of a different age. The whole time travel incident had been resolved long ago, but Trunks continued to bear the burden of deeds that weren't his when others relived memories he didn't share. _Poor kid,_ Piccolo muttered to himself, _this is another mess that isn't really his._

The glow faded from Eldest's eyes. "An explanation isn't needed, Son," he said gently. "You did what was necessary to protect your homeworld. It was only a matter of time before Cold and his offspring turned their attention towards our sector, and our ability to use blackfire is nothing compared to their chi. Which is better, death or slavery with no hope of freedom?" He let out a long sigh. "In the long run I believe the mercenaries will annihilate themselves. I can only hope the planets they've pillaged can outlive their savagery since we won't be there to help them any more."

The image suddenly flickered, then rocked as it resolved itself. Eldest looked upward and a small shower of debris pattered against his arm. He casually brushed it off but his expression tensed. "Youngest, do you remember your last visit Home? It was the afternoon we spent in the Winter Garden. The flame flowers were ready to bloom but the _Aughenai_ couldn't spare you the time to wait for them."

Khri swallowed. When she spoke her voice was low and sad. "Yes. I remember."

"Your older siblings had counseled you before our meeting to 'humor the old man.' Yes, I'm more than aware of what Phelhai and Sirdhai whispered in your ear that morning."

"I took their petty comments for what they were worth," Khri growled. "Nothing."

Eldest nodded sagely. "I had warned them all this day was coming. In spite of all the evidence, independent rumors and the reports from our spies, they refused to believe me. You, however skeptical you were, listened with an open mind. The questions you asked me over the years told me you thought about it often, and I'm sorry there were so many I couldn't answer. I need to explain, Daughter...that day we talked about is _here._"

Piccolo watched as the air around Khri seemed to grow cold. Even through her armor he could see she was trembling and her face lost what little color remained in her cheeks. "Oh no...oh no, don't say it, please don't..." she rasped.

Khri's father drew himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders. "From this moment on you are Youngest no longer. As Leonid Eldest, I give you the name of _Dorhanhai._ You are to conduct yourself in accordance with that title and carry out the final orders I'm about to give you."

_Dorhanhai? What does that mean? As for those 'final orders'..._ Piccolo felt time slow as Khri snapped to attention. He guessed that years of practice had made it instinctive, overriding the shock she couldn't hide. _One hell of a blow is coming straight at her and there's nothing I can do to stop it._

The projection swayed and flickered again as if someone had bumped the camera on Eldest's end of the transmission. The image steadied but the formerly crisp edges now appeared grainy and blurred. Eldest himself was struggling to stay on his feet, his cloak covered in a fine white powder. When he was able to speak again his voice was even more resolute. "_Dorhanhai_, you are to remain safely on Earth. You are to help protect it just as you would your homeworld."

"Protect it?" Khri's voice was still polite but Piccolo could hear a trickle of outrage and anger. "I should have been aboard the _Aughenai_, fighting to protect her and the fleet!"

"Then you would be dead too, Youngest, just like everyone else, including Sai." Eldest ignored Khri's flinch of pain. "I'm sorry, Khri, but I'm going to do my best to keep you alive and that means making sure you stay on Earth. You might not be as powerful as the chi-using fighters, but you have unique skills the planet may need in the future. Now give me your word."

"I...I swear."

Vegeta shouldered his way between a gaping Trunks and Goten. "Does that mean we should be expecting visitors?"

Eldest scowled faintly. "After today there shouldn't be any Tigradi left to worry about. The Telkarri were eradicated a few days ago. Most of Freeza's former employees know he was killed on Earth and are less than eager to share his fate, so I doubt you'll be confronted with anything that would threaten the entire planet. I cannot give guarantees it won't happen."

Vegeta stared at him thoughtfully, then nodded. "Fine." His dark eyes sparkled and he sneered, right hand curling into a fist. "Although I wouldn't mind settling a few scores with some of my old mates, if they ever drop in."

Eldest nodded graciously, then turned back to his daughter. "The second oath is that you will never use the Dragonballs for your own benefit." He glanced down at Dende, who had been watching with an unmistakable sadness. "Earth's Guardian has kindly given me the details of how the Dragon is summoned here and the limits to his wishes. The temptation to use them to resurrect our Clan will be great, Khri, but I want your word that you'll never attempt it. I know its hard to understand it now, but you will in time. I want your word, as former Youngest and _Dorhanhai_ and as my daughter, that you won't try to summon Shen Long."

Piccolo's own fists clenched as a bit more of Khri's dwindling resolve drained away. "I promise," she whispered.

"There is just one left." Eldest's brief laugh was bitter. "Knowing you as I do, this one will be the most difficult." The image shook again and he disappeared briefly, leaning out of frame to hold onto something. Even with the picture distortion Piccolo could see chunks of what looked like plaster rain down. When the projection stabilized, the older man didn't bother to brush himself off again. "I apologize. The detonations are getting closer to our compound, which means the surviving Tigradi are getting ready to deploy chem bombs." The expression on his face when he looked at Khri was not one of a commander to a subordinate, but a father to his loved child. "Khri, there will come a time when you have a chance for happiness. I want you to take it!"

Khri's nod was wooden. "I...I will. I promise."

The projection shook again as Eldest closed his eyes briefly and seemed to relax. "I know how seriously you take your oaths, Khri. You've never broken your word and I trust you'll keep it now." His gaze suddenly moved away, as if something in the distance caught his eye. "I've sent the encrypted pass codes that have unlocked most of the archives in your computer. You'll find they're mostly historical and scientific in nature, but there are areas that work intuitively. When you begin to ask the right questions, it will give you the answers."

Piccolo felt a surge of irritation on Khri's behalf. She'd spent hours with the machine, poking and prodding it for information, only to find the files she wanted couldn't be opened. After the first day of tinkering she'd marched out of the room, jaw set and eyes blazing, and nearly tore in half the bottle of water she'd grabbed from the refrigerator. Fortunately, Goten and Trunks were willing to spar in the cool evening hours on those days, even if they were less than enthusiastic about it.

A loud roar came from the speaker on the projection plate and the man vanished in a shower of static. When the image flickered back the quality was even worse then before. Eldest resembled a statue left outside for too many centuries. "...Time is nearly over. The transmitter won't survive the next hit."

"Why are you still Home?" Khri closed the few steps between herself and the image. "Why haven't you evacuated? You've got to have a contingency plan!"

"...Fleeing ships have been destroyed...mercenaries have fortified the Tigradi blockade...no place to flee." Another cascade of debris tumbled behind Eldest, adding another layer of dust to his hair and clothes. "Khri, I must say goodbye."

"No!" Khri held up one hand, reaching for the projection and catching empty air. "Please! There must be another way, a way to escape, please don't leave me alone here..."

"Khri, _you_ are my contingency plan." His eyes, still piercing through all the static, passed from fighter to fighter until they focused on Piccolo. "You have made friends – both old and new ones – and you won't be alone." His voice never wavered as he turned and smiled sadly at his daughter. "As a race we Leonids are passing, but we're going to take both the Tigradi and the Telkarri with us. _You_ are our legacy, Khri. And I know you will make us proud, because you already have." His smile widened and he raised his hand, his ethereal fingers reaching for Khri's. Her armored fingertips passed through his without a ripple. "Goodbye, most favorite and loved daughter. I shall miss you."

"Father, wait..."

Eldest smiled proudly one last time, then his image filled with white static and disappeared.

A heavy silence fell across the Lookout. A slight breeze had picked up, rustling Dende's long robes and hissing through the palms. No one wanted to be the first to speak, the first to urge time forward again, away from the terrible confession still ringing in their ears and through their thoughts.

Khri herself was the first to move. She pulled her hand back and let it fall to her side, then slowly turned away. She showed no sign of grief, anger or any other emotion, and Piccolo didn't need to resort to rifling through Kami's memories for a cause. _She's in shock. Damn...I knew this would be bad, but its so much worse than I expected._ His eyes followed her as she walked to the distant edge of the platform and looked down.

"Oh...Dende," Kuririn breathed, "you don't think she'll try to throw herself off...?"

"I...I don't think so." Dende didn't look up from the floor.

"She knows better." Piccolo ignored the curious glances, knowing he was revealing hints he knew Khri better than they'd been led to assume. "I don't think she's the suicidal type."

Trunks shook his head. "I hope you're right, Piccolo. To lose your family, your friends, everything you've known..."

"She'll survive it."

The last person Piccolo expected to say anything was Vegeta. He was staring at Khri's back, his dark brows furrowed in their usual scowl, but Piccolo couldn't feel the rise in chi that always coiled around Vegeta when he was angry. "Having your homeworld destroyed, your family murdered...she'll survive those. But I got a chance to fight Freeza." It was then his chi began to build, rising to a nearly visible level as his fists clenched. "I failed and that idiot Kakarrot picked up where I left off, but at least I got to fight that bastard. I got my chance for revenge. Her father denied her that!"

Still watching Khri in case he needed to make an emergency dive over the platform, Piccolo folded his arms. "Don't forget, Vegeta, you died at the hands of Freeza. If it weren't for Dende and Porunga you'd still be dead."

"So would you, Namek!" Vegeta snarled. "Did you forget you fought Freeza yourself and wanted revenge for Old Namek, or is that too inconvenient for you to remember right now?"

"Stop this arguing! Both of you!" A loud whack echoed across the Lookout as Dende thumped his staff on the tile. Piccolo and Vegeta both startled at his snap; seeing mild-mannered Dende angry was a rarity. "Khri is more than welcome to stay here as long as she wants. Mr. Popo and I will watch out for her." The dark-skinned man at his side nodded in agreement.

Piccolo frowned. "You knew this was going to happen."

"Yes and no." Dende's antennae wilted as his anger ebbed away. "The Leonid Eldest contacted me a few weeks ago. He warned me there would be hard times ahead for Khri, and asked me to do what I could to help her. I agreed, of course."

"I feel so bad for her," Kuririn said, dragging his eyes from Khri to stare up at Piccolo. "I don't know what to say. 'I'm sorry' sounds so...stupid."

"I don't think there's anything we can say." Gohan sighed softly, shaking his head. "I doubt there's a sympathy card that says 'sorry your family's dead and your world has been destroyed.' Maybe all we can do is be there if and when she's ready to talk."

Vegeta snorted. "She doesn't need to talk. She needs to pound the shit out of somebody."

Piccolo heard the sound of Khri's heavy boots on the marble and saw her take a step closer to the edge. He concentrated on feeling for the void where her shielding should be but couldn't find it. _Chi would make it so much easier to keep track of you, but you don't have it and complaining about it won't help you..._

Goten's quiet question was one Piccolo had been meaning to ask. "Dende, what was that word her father called her..._dor_-something. Do you know what it means?"

"Yes. _Dorhanhai_ is an ancient Leonid term meaning 'first, last and only.' It's a description and a title, and there are implications to it that go beyond the meaning of the individual words." Dende's eyes welled with tears as he watched the motionless figure in the distance. "Khri is supposed to consider herself to be the last of her race. While its very possible that some Leonids will survive, she's not supposed to go looking for them. There are other things too, but I didn't have time to research the language archives."

"How do you know all this?" Trunks asked.

"Her father used the term _dorhanhai_ once, and said that Khri would honor it. He didn't have time to explain what it meant so I had to look it up." Dende caught Piccolo's eye. 'I did think it was strange that _dorhanhai_ was in the archives and not _Eudori_.'

'We can talk about that later,' Piccolo thought back. "There's nothing more you can do here," Piccolo said out loud. "You should all go home and let everyone know what happened. It would be helpful if some of you watched the television to see how the attack on Satan City was reported. If an idiot with a camera got lucky, it might make things hard for Khri later."

Gohan nodded. "Good point. I need to check on Videl and Pan, too...I'd also like to know if there's anything left of the University."

"I'm sure Eighteen and Master Roshi will fill me in," Kuririn said. "But I'll make sure I watch the news tonight. Let me know if there's anything we can do," he added before saying his goodbyes and launching himself into the air.

Vegeta was already hovering but Trunks had nudged closer to Dende. "When she's ready...tell Khri if she needs help with any equipment or wants her armor repaired that I want to help. I know Mom will too," he said quietly. He waved and shot into the sky, trailing far behind Vegeta's distant spark.

"Piccolo, please let us know if there's anything we can do, any way we can help," Goten said softly. "I can't imagine what its like to lose everything like that..."

"There's nothing any of us can do." Piccolo sighed and glanced back at Khri. She remained frozen in place and showed no signs of moving any time soon. "Go home. I'll let you know if anything changes."

Gohan's smile didn't reach his eyes as he said goodbye. "C'mon, Goten. You can borrow one of my shirts before you go home so Mom doesn't jump to the wrong conclusions. See you later, guys." He stared sharply at Piccolo. 'I mean it, if you need anything or just want to talk...'

'I know where to find you. Thanks, Gohan,' he sent back.

Piccolo stared into the darkening blue of the early evening sky as the two brothers vanished. The wind was dying down and the first stars winked through the light scattering of clouds. The Lookout perched over the opposite side of the continent from Satan City and the air was sweet and clean, but he could smell smoke and the traces of acid fumes clinging to his blood-soaked gi. It took less than a second to exchange his ratty clothes for a fresh set, complete with his cloak and turban. The day had started peacefully and was about to end the same way but the hours between the two had been nothing short of a nightmare. Fading sunlight danced across Khri's armored back and sparked against the ripped edges that had once folded over her shoulder. _Her armor isn't the only thing that might be damaged beyond repair,_ he admitted to himself through a growing sense of worry.

Dende came forward to stand beside him. "Piccolo...I know there's more to your friendship with Khri than what you've told me. I'm not going to pry, but I hope you'll tell me about it when you're ready." He felt the younger Namek studying him but he kept his expression stony. "Mr. Popo and I will be inside the Temple if you need anything." He turned to go, then paused. "I'm sorry, Piccolo. I'm sorry for Khri. There wasn't a thing I could do."

"You're Guardian of Earth, Dende. You can't be responsible for what happens in the rest of the universe."

He waited until he could no longer hear Dende's retreating footsteps before he slowly walked towards Khri. He took extra care not to startle her by moving in from the side, hands raised as if he approached a wounded animal. "Khri. Everyone has gone. Dende and Mr. Popo are inside and can't see you." He spoke in the soft voice he'd used years ago with Gohan whenever bad dreams woke the boy. "You've always respected my pride. Now let me show you the same respect. Whatever you do will never be revealed to anyone, including Gohan. I promise."

Seconds stretched into minutes that felt like hours but Piccolo was patient. Her pride, the only thing left to her, had kept her from an embarrassing collapse in front of the others. He knew she couldn't sustain it much longer. _How much does she trust me? Is it enough for her to let go? _Piccolo's patience paid off. Khri began to tremble and her breathing grew ragged. He held his breath and waited just a few feet away, ready to move in case she took the last long step forward. _Khri...you know better, you know I won't let you fall even if you want to..._

Shaking like a palm in a hurricane, Khri stepped backward and her knees buckled. She clattered to the tile, doubled over and hugged herself tightly as she struggled to breathe. "No," came her strangled whisper. "No!"

Piccolo knelt in front of her and reached for her shoulder, then pulled back. Frustration and anger began to feed into his chi as he stared at the stars in fury. _Damn you, Sai! And damn your Eldest, too! Do you realize what you've done to her? Your stupid ideas of 'protecting' her may have destroyed her! You didn't even give her the chance to die a warrior's death!_ He ignored the strange twinge deep in his chest at the thought and gently gripped her upper arm. "Khri. You deserved the chance to fight for your people and it was stolen from you. Now prove they were wrong to treat you like a coward! Decide to live!"

Khri's hands gripped the loose fabric draping his knees. He realized she could feel almost nothing through her gloves and he didn't have a clue how to remove them. She leaned forward and buried her face in his lap, pressing her forehead into his leg. "No, no, no," she repeated over and over, her voice never rising above a hoarse gasp.

"Yes." His free hand rested lightly on the back of her head, feeling the softness of her messy braid. "It takes strength to go on living, more strength than dying. And I'm going to see that you do."

Khri continued to shake uncontrollably but no tears soaked into his clothes and it worried him. _The tears cane come later I suppose, if she needs them, along with other small battles she'll have to fight._ He awkwardly stroked her hair, reminding himself he had once done the same for Gohan for much smaller hurts. _Her father wasn't her only loss...she's lost everything._

'Piccolo?' The uncertainty in Dende's voice made him sound years younger. 'I don't mean to bother you, but I felt your chi spike. Is everything all right?'

'No, Dende. Nothing is all right, but Khri will survive this.' He covered one of Khri's armored fists with his hand. _I'll make sure of it._

_To Be Continued..._

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AceofAuthors: As always, thank youand I'm glad you liked Ch. 18.

chikyu: It's always wonderful when someone catches on to what I'm trying to do. Thank you so much!

Selene-13-immortal: You...PRINTED it:gulp: I think that's one of the best compliments I've ever received. I'm very glad you like the story so far, and I hope I didn't interfere with your music lesson! As for my vocabulary...my goal is to eventually get a novel published, and I'm treating this story seriously and with respect for the art. If I'm sloppy here, why would anyone want to read anything else I write, let alone pay for it? If you have any questions, please just ask me.

TiffyAngel: I'm glad you're being patient with this story. I know its loooong compared to a lot of Piccolo/OC fics and lost of people want to "get on with it," but be patient! I'm not going to leave my readers in suspense for too much longer !

Dreamwraith: This was a difficult chapter to write. There were so many little details I needed to make sure were included I tended to get bunged up with the writing! Ch. 19 was just as bad, if not worse. I was a bit unsure about the confrontation, but this is one area where Khri's temper WILL flare up. She also knows she intimidates Piccolo just a tiny bit because of their...um..."encounter" in One Good Deed, and she used it to her advantage. She won't be pulling that stunt again anytime soon. I don't think she could get away with it!

All: This chapter has been a long time in coming. Its a relief to finally have it out of my grey matter and on paper where it belongs! The next chapter, "War Wounds," is partially written and is pretty angsty, but Chapter 21, "Everyone's a Winner," makes even ME laugh!


	20. War Wounds

"Errant Exile"

Chapter 20: "War Wounds"

AN: This chapter makes reference to "One Good Deed." If you haven't read it yet, this entry will make more sense and have deeper meaning if you do.

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_"She doesn't need to talk. She needs to pound the shit out of somebody." - Vegeta_

'Piccolo?'

When Gohan had been a small boy, Piccolo learned early on that his student had a natural talent for interrupting his sensei's meditation, usually when it was the most productive.

Today, however, was an exception.

The roof tiles had grown uncomfortable hours ago and he'd resorted to floating while he watched the sun set. Cool evening breezes rustled his cape and tugged at his gi as he tried to ignore his tense, underworked body. He unfolded and stretched, working a kink out of his left shoulder. 'Yeah, Kid?'

'I know I keep asking you this, but has there been any change?'

Piccolo sighed and looked down at the figure sitting on the beach. She was shivering, arms wrapped around her knees as she stared across the waves. The evening tide was coming in, and from his perch on the roof he could see swirls of foam and sand inching towards Khri's toes. 'No, Gohan. It's the same as yesterday and the day before that.'

Gohan's inner voice was sympathetic and a bit awed. 'Its been over two weeks and she still hasn't said a word? I know Khri is an alien, but she's still female...'

He couldn't stop a snort of amusement. 'She's not like your mother or Bulma. She never talked much, even before...' He let the sentence trail off. 'Khri physically can't hold out much longer, Gohan. She'll drink water but she won't eat and she's losing weight. Sooner or later she's going to have to snap out of it and start living again.' At least that was what he hoped. He didn't doubt Khri was perfectly capable of starving herself to death if she wanted to.

'I don't think many species could survive on the Namekian diet.' Gohan left off the joke about Saiyan appetites, his voice growing serious. ''Piccolo, I know its been a while since you've trained...Vegeta's been making snide remarks about a 'lazy Namek,' but Goten has been sparring with Trunks every chance he gets. Ever since Satan City was attacked he's been determined to work harder and push himself. He's worried about Khri but wants to know if you'll be sparring again soon. He also asked me if you plan on dropping out of the tournament.'

Piccolo frowned as he arched his back into a deep stretch. The idea of dropping out didn't bother him one bit, but the thought of disappointing Goten and Trunks did. _Eighteen is still looking for a team,_he remembered, _and the idea of forcing Vegeta to be paired with the woman who once beat him is entertaining, but..._ 'I don't plan to drop out, but getting away to practice is difficult at the moment.'

'That's one of the reasons I'm bothering you!' Gohan's voice brightened and Piccolo felt it sounded a bit forced. 'Videl told me this afternoon if you want a break, she'd be happy to spend the day with Khri tomorrow. She's offering to spot you three times a week so you can start sparring again. She says she'll bring some food Khri might be coaxed into eating, like chocolate ice cream. I'll send along my extra senzu, too. What do you think?'

Rising to his feet and standing on the roof tiles, Piccolo arched his head towards his right shoulder to stretch his neck. The offer was very tempting. Unlike ChiChi, who had thrown martial arts out the window when she married Goku, Videl kept her skills fresh by sparring with Pan. If Khri showed any changes – for better or worse – Videl could handle it. He could spend a few hours training with the boys, then wind down at his abandoned waterfall before returning to Khri's house to relieve Videl He glanced back down at the motionless shape on the beach, now surrounded by water, and made a decision. 'I'll have to get back to you on that, Gohan. I've got something in mind that might change things...if it doesn't work I'll let you know.'

Piccolo could feel Gohan's curiosity curling around his reply. 'Oh...ok...I don't know what you're planning, but good luck.'

'Thanks. And thank Videl for me.'

Gohan's voice drifted away, leaving Piccolo alone except for the occasional bird that whistled in the nearby palms. _I can walk still walk away,_ he reminded himself, then snorted in annoyance. He'd been rehashing that argument for more than two weeks. _My agreement with Sai ended when he died. I could let Gohan and Videl watch over Khri...hell, they'd probably be glad to do it. The last thing I want is to be a damned babysitter again. _He floated down to the beach and tossed his turban into the soft sand. The dull thunk of his shoulder weights hitting a stone was loud enough to let Khri know she had company, wanted or not. He stood several feet behind her, feeling the breeze gently stir his antennae as it tousled her short hair.

The first week after Khri's life had been torn apart had been a lesson in patience, futility, frustration and worry. After her collapse on the edge of the Lookout he'd tried to coax her inside the Temple, but she didn't need to use words in her refusal to be moved. Dende had brought out a blanket and draped it over her shoulders, then forced a cup of hot sweetened tea into her hands. It took a bit of persuading but she managed a few swallows, then promptly ignored them both and stared into the star-filled sky the rest of the night.

The morning brought about another disturbing change. At sunrise Khri voluntarily went inside the Temple and emerged a short time later, shocking both Dende and Piccolo with her altered appearance. She'd shucked off her battered armor, bathed and changed into a black uniform identical to the one she'd worn her first night on Earth. Piccolo knew humans had many strange and pointless customs when it came to expressing grief and apparently Leonids did too. The sleeves had been ripped off at the shoulders, leaving her arms cold and bare. She had also cut her hair.

Judging from the ragged edges she'd sawn her braid off with a dull knife. What was left stood out from her scalp in wild curls and spikes that a super Saiyan would envy. She reminded Piccolo of a dandelion about to turn to seed. The loss made her look more vulnerable, her haunted eyes larger...and he hated it.

Khri used most of the day to rip apart the receiver and the dish and reassemble them. She spent the next three huddled on the Lookout's edge with the machine. It hummed and occasionally chirped as its receiving dish swept back and forth but the sounds it made didn't interest her. Mr. Popo conjured up meals that would have sent Goku into ecstatic convulsions but she left them untouched, the bed prepared for her unused. The days crept by with no change except for the rare hours she fell into a fitful, shallow sleep that never lasted long. When the first week was over Piccolo said farewell to Dende and Popo. Weak and sleep-deprived, Khri didn't resist when he carried her off the Lookout and took her home. The second week was no different from the first, except her choice spot was now the water's edge rather than the Lookout's platform.

Piccolo quietly waited for a sign that Khri had noticed him, but her blank stare across the ocean helped firmed his resolve. He set aside all second thoughts about his plan as water and foam swirled around her ankles and soaked into her uniform pants. Lack of food, decent sleep and the stresses of grief had left her weak, her stamina low. His jaw tightened as he wrestled with a surge of feelings he thought he'd already dealt with; worry he would accidentally injure her, fear he'd waited too long and desperate hope that his scheme would work. There was also anticipation, kindled by a curiosity born many years ago when he'd first met Khri and she'd issued her challenge. He cleared his throat.

"Khri. You've been through a lot and you've had time to grieve, but it needs to stop now." The roar of the ocean masked the sound of his deep, steadying breath. _This is where things get interesting._ "You can't go on like this. Its time for you to start living again."

She didn't turn to look at him but Piccolo didn't miss her flinch. "Your enemies tried to kill you here, on Earth. They almost succeeded once, but you pushed through the pain and the blood and defied them all. Now look at you! You've let yourself be defeated and you haven't even been attacked!"

Khri's head slowly turned and she looked at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were open and burning bright. _I think its working,_ he thought with an anxious swallow. _There's no turning back now._ "Look what your own father has done to you!" He let his own surge of anger at the Leonid Eldest, at Sai, at the unfairness of it all give his voice an edge. "You were denied the privilege of dying as a warrior should! In spite of all your achievements they treated you like some spoiled, pampered child! They wouldn't let you fight to defend the things you valued just because some old man wanted to leave a legacy!"

A twinge of old emotional pain caught him off guard. He'd been the product of Daimao's cravings to shatter Earth and rebuild it into a second Hell, but the bitter old fool hadn't counted on his offspring's rebellion. To his own sire he'd been nothing more than a tool, an attempt to sidestep death and build a horrifying legacy by proxy. Khri's father may have loved her, but had his desire to leave a part of himself behind been any less motivating than Daimao's?

Piccolo knew the uncomfortable question would have to wait for an answer. Khri stood ankle-deep in the water, fists clenched and twin sparks of light glaring out from her shadowed face. _Good! Its time to finish this._ "You still owe me a fight, Khri, and now's the perfect time. Here's your chance to fight back. I won't use chi and will stick with blocking moves just to make things fair." She caught the subtle insult and her eyes flared brighter still. It was the riskiest part of his strategy; he wasn't completely sure that raw emotions were enough to prevent Khri's use of blackfire. They wreaked havoc on her shielding, but what about her attacks? His smile was mocking as he crouched into a fighting stance, fists ready and one foot grinding into the sand. "Show me you can fight, Khri. Prove them all wrong." Excitement warred with guilt as he tensed with the thrill of an old challenge about to be answered. "You really don't think you can hurt me, do you?"

The first punch Khri threw was easily blocked, but the impact sent a shock through his shoulder. There was plenty of force behind her arm without blackfire, enough to make him slide backward in the sand a few inches. The next few blows were easy to anticipate, but she nearly landed a kick to his jaw that would have sent him sprawling. _I don't know if she's testing me or not,_ he wondered as he deflected a flurry of blows.

Fighting with so many self-imposed restrictions was more of a challenge than Piccolo first thought. No chi meant no flying, no beam attacks, no shielding, and no speed-of-light moves. He was limited to whatever physical force his body could produce and the discipline it took to keep from powering up was remarkable. Years of sparring and fighting kept him well conditioned, and dealing with gravity had never been bothersome until now. With no chi behind it, his bigger frame and heavier bulk slowed him down. Khri's tall, lightly muscled frame had the advantage when it came to speed, and as she warmed up she moved even faster.

The last colors of sunset had bled from the sky and the full moon was rising when Piccolo, after blocking a kick to his gut, was able to anticipate her pattern. Khri's blows had been strong and methodical without being totally predictable, but they reminded him of the machines Vegeta used in his gravity room. They were well programmed and Bulma had designed them to behave intuitively – Vegeta would throw a tantrum if he suspected otherwise – but they were still machines. Had Khri been fighting the same enemies for so long, using the same methods so often that she'd forgotten any other way? _Just how old is she, _he wondered as Khri's missed kick sent her skidding into the sand. _If she's as old as I think, she could know hundreds of different fighting styles!_ "You can do better than this!" he snapped as she rolled to her feet. "Fight like a person, not a damned robot!"

Khri's shoulder slammed into his ribcage, throwing him backward. When he hit the sand hard she had already vaulted over him and was about to attack from behind. Fighting the urge to strike back, Piccolo found himself not only on defense but feeling surprised. She knew a few moves from the old Namek style he'd "acquired" from his fusion with Nail. There were a good handful of attacks he didn't recognize but several kicks reminded him of sparring moves Goku had brought back from Yardrat. At one point she hooked a leg around his ankle and jerked him off his feet. Khri moved from a fast, fluid dance into the most dirty street-brawling style he'd ever seen. Stars passed to the west and towering clouds moved in, cutting off the moonlight and drenching them both in a brief but intense thunderstorm. Pillars of lightning went ignored as Piccolo guarded against but didn't quite block a blow to his knee. Khri's thick hair lay plastered against her scalp as she stood several feet away, small streams of water running down her face as she stared at him over raised fists.

At last the storm rumbled its way down the beach, taking the rain and returning the stars. A cool pre-dawn breeze was picking up when Piccolo noticed a change. The pauses between Khri's attacks were growing longer and longer and she was shaking. He wondered if the rain had been a mixed blessing. Her clothing was soaked and the wind blowing through it had to be cold for her. _I think this is it,_ he sighed, resuming a battle-ready stance, flicking his fingers at her in a gesture of challenge and mockery. _Just a little bit more..._

Khri rushed him and she stumbled half way. Her knuckles, caked with sand and blood, landed soft blows that he caught with both hands. Head down and shaking like a leaf in the wind, her knees buckled and she collapsed. Piccolo caught her and eased her gently down. "Sai! Oh...Sai!" she sobbed, her voice raspy and faint as she doubled over.

"Let it out. You've been holding it too long." _Much too long,_he thought, watching as the first hints of sunrise blurred the stars. Khri didn't wail or fall into hysterics; she simply cried, occasionally speaking a name, soaking the knees of his already damp and sand-covered gi. Her battered uniform sported holes and rips, the skin underneath scraped raw and bleeding. Her butchered hair was partially dry and full of sand but still soft beneath his fingers. Khri's sobs tapered off into ragged hiccups as the cries of seagulls seeking their morning meal echoed in the retreating dark. Her fists tightened as she took a deep breath and suddenly wilted.

Piccolo gasped in alarm. Had he pushed her too far? He reached for her wrist and searched for a pulse. It was there, faint but slow and steady. Piccolo scooped her into his arms and stood up. Dried tears traced sandy paths down her cheeks and her skin was cold. _Too cold, but she's too exhausted to shiver._ He pulled her tightly against his chest and began the short walk up to the house. For the first time in hours he used chi, but only to nudge open the patio door.

The living room was dark and quiet. Rainwater pooled on the sills of every window left open during the night. Birds were piping a good-morning song in the nearby trees as Piccolo gently stretched Khri out on the sofa. _She's going to pissed at me later,_he thought as he laid her on her side, watching as sand streamed out from her clothes and into the cushions. _But I'd rather have her angry than emtpy._ Reluctant to turn on the nearby lamp, he pulled the grille away from the fireplace. The logs in the hearth were seasoned and would burn easily. A small, controlled blast of chi ignited the wood and coaxed the flames high. He noiselessly replaced the grille and headed down the hall towards the bathroom.

Piccolo found himself appreciating Khri's spartan lifestyle. Her closets were uncluttered and spare so he found a stack of small towels and a blanket in no time. He remembered where she kept her medical kit and retrieved that, too. She showed no signs of waking up as he spread the blanket over her and tucked it around her legs and back. He set down the medical kit on the low table next to the softa, then went into the kitchen and poured a large bowl of warm water. Kneeling on the floor, medical kit between his knees, he picked up her right hand. "At least these wounds are easier to deal with" he rumbled quietly, examining her injuries in the light of the fire.

Her knuckles were a bloody mess. Sand had gotten into the cuts and slowly ground itself in, mixing with blood and caking the wounds shut. He scowled and rummaged through the medical kit. Bandages were easy enough to spot, but there at least three tubes containing different types of cream. The labels, printed in Khri's native language, were indecipherable so he resorted to the smell test. One was too astringent, the second had no scent at all. The third reminded him of a salve used by tournament medics on bleeding injuries, so it was probably his best bet. Using well soaked towels he managed to clean most of the sand and dried blood from her hand. Khri never moved, making him wonder if she was asleep or had genuinely passed out. He smeared the salve into the cuts and wrapped her hand in several swaths of bandage, leaving her fingers free. He tucked her arm under the blanket, went back into the kitchen for fresh water, then started work on her left hand.

As he cleaned away the signs of their fight, Piccolo took the opportunity to study this odd female that was occupying so many of his days. Her face and body were noticeably thinner and there were dark circles under her eyes. The set jaw and blank stare were gone but he wasn't comfortable with the shadows of pain they'd left behind. Her bare arms bore marks of long ago battles both won and lost. A short, thin line slashed across her bicep, another one marred the inside of her elbow. A small crescent-shaped burn mark hid in the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. Four small, star-shaped scars were visible on her wrist, two on each side, reminding him of...

He froze. _Four...small...stars..._

Blood-tinted water from the towel pattered onto the floor. _Four scars...four fang marks..._

The towel slid back into the bowl.

_Made by me._

The green hand engulfing the gold one trembled as a foggy memory cleared, leaving him with the taste of blood in his mouth. His Daimao-induced rage had burned fresh during the first years of his life, and his sole purpose at that tournament had been to spy on Goku and learn how to crush him. Then a tall, alien woman with strange powers had interfered with his plans. He'd been furious with her when he'd sunk his fangs into her wrist, but he'd been furious at the entire world, too. He ran the pad of his thumb over one of the scars. _Have they become part of her? Just another leftover from an old fight?_ The explanation made the most sense except there were clues she felt otherwise. A tug on her sleeve here, pulling her hand away there. Khri was conscious of those scars. _And she never wanted me to see them. Why?_

The fingers he cradled in his palm twitched as she shifted in her sleep. He watched her face for signs he'd woken her but her eyes stayed closed. She let out a long sigh ragged from exhaustion and tears, then grew still. Piccolo scowled and finished the cleanup, topping the wounds with more of the salve. He opened another bandage and started winding it around her hand.

"Thank you."

Khri's eyes were open. They were glowing faintly in the firelight as she blinked sand from her lashes. Her voice, unused for over two weeks, was just as gritty as her clothing and sofa.

Piccolo looked away, then tore the extra bandage material off with his teeth. "Go back to sleep. You need the rest."

He felt her watching him as he secured the end of the bandage and gently pulled the blanket over her arm. "How...how did you know...?"

"What to say and what to do?" He set the bowl and medical kit aside, then got up to add another log to the fire. The comforting heat helped to dry his gi and encouraged him to relax. He sat down on the floor in front of the sofa, feeling her knees press against his back. "I had a hunch."

"Would you please explain?"

He quirked an eye ridge at her. "Only if you'll sleep afterward."

"I promise."

_And you always keep your promises, don't you?_ Piccolo stared into the fire, watching the flames writhe and wriggle along the fresh wood. White-hot embers glowed beneath the grate, reminding him of a time when his soul smouldered with hate and anger. "What you said...thirty years ago...at the tournament, just before you left. Did you really intend it as advice for me, or was it something you wished for yourself?"

The knee against his back twitched. It was all the confirmation he needed. He listened to her uneven breathing as she thought about his question. "Both. When I told you to live, push yourself and learn from your challenges, I was passing on advice I'd been given once that I thought valuable. But refusing to let others push you towards their future rather than your own..." her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "I wanted that for myself, when I was young. I never followed it." Piccolo felt the blanket shift and cool fingers touched his shoulder. "I'm glad to see you did."

He snorted. "Not by choice. At least at first." He'd never told the story to anyone before; there had never been a need. The Sons had all lived it, especially Gohan, who passed it along to his family. There were plenty of other eyewitnesses to keep the tale alive, and they had the sense not to retell it if he was around. Admitting to yourself you were going soft was one thing. Hearing about it from others was completely different and not pleasant in the least.

"I don't know how much Gohan told you, but my life wasn't meant to be my own. My egg was spit out by Piccolo Daimao just before he died at Goku's hands. I was born with all his memories, his hate and his rage. My only reason for living was to kill Goku, raze everything on Earth and rule what was left." The admission sounded strange, as if it had happened to a different person. _Maybe...just maybe it has._ "It was when I was training Gohan that my ambitions...changed. I kept putting off what I thought I wanted...what Daimao wanted...until I realized his wishes didn't matter anymore." Khri's grasp tightened gently, urging him to continue. "I was born to create a legacy and infused with the motivation and know-how to do it. I wonder now...after all these years...if some part of my mind remembered what you said about not letting others choose for me." He shifted uncomfortably on the hard floor. "First Gohan and Goku, then Goten and Trunks...they gave me the excuse. Your life was a tool just as mine was, even if the reasons were different. You needed to get the self respect back they took from you. I just gave you the chance." He turned to look at her.

Firelight reflected in Khri's clear eyes, a hint of her old smile teasing one corner of her mouth. "You are so young, Piccolo. How did you get to be so wise so quickly?"

He let himself chuckle and turned back to watch the fire. "_That_ is a long story and its not easy to explain. Once the tournament is over and I've got a few days to waste I might tell you. And since you're calling me young, just how old are you..." he paused, feeling her hand slide from his shoulder. Worried, he touched her arm as he turned around to check on her.

Khri had fallen asleep. The shadows beneath her eyes were still there but carved less deeply into her face. She was breathing normally and the muscles in her arm were relaxed. Piccolo shook his head, gently tucking it back under the blanket. As much as he hated to admit it, Vegeta had been right. Khri had needed to "pound the shit" out of somebody, and it had taken far less encouragement than he'd anticipated. He leaned back against the couch, feeling the aches fade and and cuts close as he considered carefully how he had earned each one. _She's shown me a few new attacks that I want Goten and Trunks to try._ Lulled by the heat and a strange sense of relief at hearing Khri's voice again, Piccolo leaned his head back against her knees. Sunlight was pouring through the eastern windows and he wondered if he should pull the blinds, but the idea of moving wasn't appealing and he doubted a little thing like sunshine would wake her now. Focusing on the crackle of the fire rather than the chirp of the birds, he closed his eyes and let himself relax. _I hope I remember where she keeps the tea,_he mused before falling easily into a meditative state.

_To be continued..._

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Chikyu: I think you meant to say that Vegeta (rather than Kuririn) was right. As you can see, he certainly was! 

Dreamwraith: This chapter was another "canon" one in the story. I knew killing off Sai wouldn't be easy, and it hit me hard while I was writing it. These two chapters have been pretty angst-ridden, and I can only hope I'm making it plausable.

AN: The next chapter is a special one. "Everyone's A Winner" has been brewing in the kettle for a long, long time, and its one I sincerely enjoy writing! Not only is it fun, but its probably the closest thing to "fan service" I'll ever do. An update shouldn't take too long!


	21. Everyone's A Winner!

Errant Exile

Chapter 21:_ "Everyone's a Winner!"_

A/N: If you're a new reader who's not ready to commit to such a long story, you may want to read this chapter. It works fairly well as a stand-alone and may help you decide if you want to read the story from the beginning (but I'd advise reading "One Good Deed" first!).

This chapter is a LONG one! Have fun. I did.

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"There you are!" 

Piccolo winced as Bulma's shout echoed down the chilly hallway. That woman wielded her voice like a weapon and it served her well; it could clear a room, get anyone's attention instantly, and was one of the few things able to make a dent in Vegeta's thick skull.

A visit to Capsule Corporation was always a risky one, even if the invitation came from the affable Trunks. Most of the employees were used to strange events and even stranger visitors, and Piccolo was finding it increasingly difficult to keep them away using a scowl alone. If he managed to dodge the occasional foolish scientist wanting to ask him about his coloring there was always a chance of running into Bulma or Vegeta. Standing outside the sliding doors labeled "Laboratory C - R&D," he watched the minute hand tick off another mark. Trunks was running late. Tired from a long day of sparring and irritated at being forced to wait, Piccolo leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. _If he's not here in the next minute, I'm out of here._

That was when Bulma showed up.

"I've been looking all over for you!" The petite woman's voice dropped marginally as she approached, her heels clicking loudly on the hallway's tile floor. She carried a flat, white box under one arm. "Trunks got stuck in a meeting and asked me to meet you instead."

Piccolo's scowl was wasted on her. She'd seen it too many times to let it frighten her anymore. He pushed away from the wall, his sudden movement startling a group of technicians lingering nearby. "If he stills needs to talk he knows where to find me. I'm leaving."

"Not yet, you're not!" Bulma shifted the white box she was carrying to her other hip. Her large blue eyes widened and her brow furrowed in worry. "I want to know how Khri's doing."

Impatience left him with a sigh. "Still not well," he said softly. "She won't leave the house except to sit on the beach and stare at the ocean. She's eating but not enough and she's too damn quiet. She'll watch the television every once in a while but that's it." His hands knotted in frustration and he looked away, uncomfortable with the open concern on Bulma's face. It reminded him too much of his own feelings.

"I can't imagine what she's going through. To lose your family, your friends, everything you know and love and to know you're the only survivor . . . " Bulma trailed off. "The only one I know of that's experienced anything like it is Vegeta, but we both know how he deals with his emotions."

Piccolo snorted. "Khri doesn't talk with her fists."

He knew Bulma was dying to ask, 'how would you know,' but she had the sense not to pry. "It sounds like she's got an awful lot of time on her hands. I've asked her to go shopping and out to lunch but she keeps refusing. Has she been out at all?"

He frowned at a scuff mark on the floor as he considered the past several weeks. Since their little "sparring session" on the beach, Khri seemed to recover a bit. He'd resumed training for the tournament answering Vegeta's snide remarks with a well-placed punch or kick -– all with her encouragement. Videl and ChiChi, with Pan in tow, had visited several times, mostly to deliver dishes specially concocted to put weight back on Khri's frame. Gohan had personally delivered a small bag of senzu fresh from old Master Karin's latest harvest, just in case the food didn't work. _Is it true? Has it really been more than four weeks since Khri left the house?_

A impatient heel-tapping brought him back to the present. "I'll take it that means no," Bulma snapped. She threw her arms up in the air and nearly dropped the box. "Aargh! You men are all alike! Oh, you're more than happy to spend your days fighting, loafing, making dirty laundry and eating everything in sight, but when it comes to thinking of somebody else you're all selfish, brainless jerks!"

"I do _not_ loaf . . . !"

"You!" She poked him in the chest. "You might not have his appetite, but you're just as bad as Vegeta when it comes to neglecting other people! If Khri is supposed to be your 'friend,' then why are you letting her sit and stare at the same four walls all day long?"

"What do you think I'm doing, holding her captive?" he shot back. "She can go out any time she wants! I'm not stopping her!"

Bulma blinked and took a step backward but she refused to relent. "Oh, yeah? Well, you're not encouraging her either, and that's going to change right now!" She shoved the box at him. "Here! See that she gets this right away!"

The box was light and rustled when he shook it. "What is it?" he growled suspiciously.

"Khri needs something else to think about besides what she's lost. Something to take her mind off what's happened, even if it's only for one day. When you give it to her, tell her she's helping me test a new product we're developing for people who live or work in cold climates." Bulma's eyes twinkled with pure malice and she grinned. "She can wear it when you take her to the carnival this weekend."

"What?"

"You heard me, and don't try to pretend you don't know anything about it! There's a big carnival this weekend in Satan City. Its part of the festivities building up to the tournament you guys have been training for. There's going to be a parade, and rides, and all kinds of games . . . "

"I am _not_ going to such a thing!"

"Oh yes you are!" When she jabbed him again, Piccolo clenched his fists so he wouldn't break her finger. "That girl needs a distraction and you're going to give it to her! Besides, I've already bought everyone tickets and rented a pavilion for a big cookout," she added with a smug smile, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. "If you're really worried about Khri, it won't kill you to sacrifice a little pride to help her feel better!"

"Don't you remember what happened last time?" Piccolo snapped in complete outrage. A handful of scientists who had been trying to watch without being noticed abruptly vanished behind corners and doors. "I have no intention of subjecting myself to that ever again!"

"I remember it perfectly well! I was the one who paid for everything Vegeta broke, plus the tickets and the fines, and that doesn't include all the money we shelled out to settle the lawsuits!" Bulma yelled, no doubt still feeling the pain in her bank account. "And Vegeta is going to the carnival too, so you might as well go or you'll never hear the end of it!"

"Feh. Like I care what Vegeta thinks . . . "

Bulma moved in for the kill. "Everyone will be there, including Gohan's family. Just meet us at the gate Saturday morning at ten o'clock sharp. Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ is coming, and that includes you. You don't have any excuses." She folded her arms. "Well?"

"I'll think about it," Piccolo growled and turned away. The cardboard box tucked under his arm buckled on one side.

"You'll do more than think about it! You'll be there!" Bulma's shout followed him down the hall. "Ten o'clock! And don't be late!"

"Fine! I'll bring her! Now just leave me the hell alone!"

* * *

The flight back to Khri's house far to the south should have been a pleasant one. The weather was perfect, and there were still a few hours before the late afternoon thunderstorms made their appearance. Warm winds tugged at Piccolo's cloak as he flew just above the ocean's surface, leaving a fine spray of mist in his wake. _Dammit, why can't that female have chi just like everyone else on the planet,_ he fumed, tightening his grip on the hapless box.

Teleporting to Capsule Corporation was easy thanks to Vegeta or Trunks' powerful chi but it was always a one way trip. He normally didn't mind the flight back to her house, but this particular trip gave him too much time to think about the foolish commitment he'd made. It was a small consolation he'd be sharing the humiliation with Vegeta. The box lid crumpled a bit more as his anger and frustration fueled his flight, his speed increasing until a familiar section of coastline came into view. He paused midair and shielded the glare from his eyes. For once there was no forlorn figure sitting near the water's edge. Piccolo landed softly, tried to smooth some of the wrinkles out of the box, and walked up to open patio doors that faced the ocean.

Khri was in the living room huddled on the sofa, a cup of tea balanced on her knee, staring at the flickering television. At some point during the last week her official mourning period had come to an end. She abandoned her sleeveless uniform tops and switched back to wearing the clothes she'd purchased on Earth. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of an oversized sweater as she watched steam curl over the top of her teacup. _This could be a good sign,_ Piccolo thought. _She hasn't been sitting there long enough for the tea to get cold. _He stepped in front of the television and set the box down on the sofa beside her.

Khri cocked her head and looked up at him, absently tucking a long curl of blonde hair behind her ear. 'Leonids lose their warrior plaits on a regular basis,' she had explained after catching his look of disgust at her ragged hair. 'We cut them in honor of fallen friends and when a close family member dies. I've lost it in battle at least twice before. It's a good thing we can grow them back in a few days if we want . . . we feel naked without them.' He had intentionally ignored her amused look at his bald head. Her hair now fell to her waist, just inches short of its previous length. She had, however, abandoned her braid. 'I'm no longer a Leonid warrior,' she'd said in a flat voice and refused to listen to his opinion otherwise.

"What's this, Piccolo?" Khri asked quietly, placing the cup on the sofa table. She used the remote to turn off the TV and ran her hand across the lid of the battered box.

"Bulma sent it. It's some type of cold weather clothing. She says she wants you test it for her."

He watched as she peeled off the mashed lid and pushed back a layer of tissue paper. The first thing she found was a handwritten message. "Here's a note from Trunks . . . it says that Capsule has been working on a new type of lightweight fabric designed for cold temperatures. He wants me to wear these and tell them what I think." She set the note aside and pulled out the top item.

Royal blue fabric unfolded into a long-sleeved shirt. Khri held it at arms' length and took a close look at one sleeve. "Very clever," she nodded, giving the shimmering, stretchy fabric a tug. "The small dots are more than just a pattern in the fabric; they're compact heating elements." She draped the shirt on the back of the sofa and pulled out a belt and pair of black jeans. "It looks like the power supply is hidden in the belt buckle and transmits it wirelessly to the fabric." She picked up Trunks' letter and reread it. "He expects the power cells to last at least eighteen hours before needing a recharge." Khri stood up and carefully folded the clothing back into the box. "Perhaps in a few weeks . . . "

"You don't have a few weeks," Piccolo growled. "You have to wear it Saturday."

Khri paused in her fight to straighten the lid. "Why?"

"Because . . . because I'm taking you out on Saturday!" There, he'd said it. _Dammit, I must be crazy for going along with this!_

Khri sat back down on the edge of the sofa with a small sigh, then moved the box to the table. "All right. What's going on that you're not telling me?"

Arms tightly folded, he tried to keep the disgust out of his voice as he told her about the carnival. Her expression didn't change as he described what was intended to be an enjoyable experience and explained that everyone – including Gohan's family – would be there. He knew he wasn't making it sound like the appealing thing it was supposed to be.

"Piccolo." Khri leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees and hands clasped. "I would never ask you to take me somewhere you didn't want to go unless there was an emergency. This isn't one of those occasions."

He fought the urge to look directly into her eyes. The numbness and shock caused by her loss were wearing off but pain followed her like a shadow. It haunted her face and robbed her voice of it's old warmth. "I'm not so sure about that," he finally replied. "For once, Bulma might be right."

One brow quirked up. "Bulma? You're actually listening to Bulma? This I've got to hear." She leaned back and crossed her arms.

Piccolo's irritation with the woman surged back but for a new reason. "She says you've been stuck in this house too long and need a distraction. Now that I've thought about it, I think she's right!" Khri blinked in surprise at his admission, so he pressed on. "You're spending so much time alone in your own mind you've forgotten there are others who might miss you!" _Why the hell did I say that?_ "Others like . . . Pan! Pan, Trunks, Goten, all your friends – yes, friends – keep pestering me, demanding to know how you're coping and I have nothing to tell them." He let his frustration spill into his voice and harden its edge. He had a handful of weapons he could use to convince her she needed a change. The trick was to poke her without cutting too deeply. Khri was so proud she'd happily bleed to death before admitting she was wounded.

He lowered his voice. "You're right. I don't want to go, but I have my own reasons and I'll deal with them. They're . . . not that important."

Khri watched him carefully for a long moment, then a ghost of her old smile appeared. "If you're that determined to subject yourself to an event you obviously loathe, I guess I'll join you. Besides, you've made me curious. I want to know why this is making you so nervous."

Piccolo didn't hide his grimace. This was an argument he would have been happy to have lost. "You're just going to have to wait." Her chance would come, and all too soon.

* * *

Saturday morning dawned clear and bright in the tropics south of Satan City. The only evidence of the previous nights' storms were the matted tendrils of seaweed strewn across the sand and a couple of bewhildered crabs trying to fend off a hungry seagull. Gohan had contacted Piccolo at sunrise to happily inform him the weather was no less spectacular at the fairgrounds. His good-natured prodding only earned him a noncommittal grunt.

Piccolo stared at the unlocked patio door handle as if it had sprouted bronze teeth. _I guess I can't put this off any longer,_ he sighed as he opened the door.

Khri was nowhere in sight but he could make out small noises coming from down the hall. "I'll be with you in a moment, Piccolo," she said as she hurried past the arched doorway of living room headed for the kitchen, a full laundry basket propped on one hip.

The footsteps suddenly stopped, followed by a loud _bang_. He heard her scramble back towards the living room. She sailed back into view, sliding on the polished wood floor in her stocking feet, and made a grab for the door frame. Khri's eyes were round as she stared at him in shock. "Piccolo?"

He nearly grinned at catching her off guard. "Just keep your opinions to yourself," he said gruffly, avoiding her gaze. "I have a better chance of not being noticed if I dress like everybody else." He readjusted his dark blue baseball cap to ease the pinching of his antennae. The form fitting jeans he'd conjured were fairly comfortable, as were the athletic shoes he modeled after a pair Gohan wore. His deep purple shirt was a variation of his gi top only with a slightly higher neckline and long sleeves. When he finally did look at her, he allowed himself a lopsided smile. "Hmph. Looks like you've dressed for the occasion, too."

The clothes Trunks and Bulma had sent fit Khri well. The stretchy blue shirt fit snugly and, unlike her bulky sweaters, didn't hide the fact that her curves were a bit too lean. He frowned when he compared her current size to the way she looked the night she'd taken a trip to the refrigerator. _I know there was more padding there,_ he thought as his stare shifted from her thigh to her hip, then up to her waist and higher. His scowl deepened. _There was definitely more there, too._ When his appraising gaze reached her face, he blinked in surprise.

Khri was furious. Her eyes glowed and her cheeks burned almost as brightly, hands curled into fists at her sides. "If you're finished, I'm going to get my shoes," she growled and stormed off.

_What was that about? Why is she so mad?_

She returned a moment later with her shoes on, but her anger was no less fierce. She folded her arms and glared up at him. "I'm ready if you are," she snapped.

"Fine!" he shot back, growing angry himself at her sudden change in attitude. "Let's get this over with!" He gripped her shoulder harder than he intended and felt her muscles clench. After a moment of searching he found Gohan's chi just outside Satan City. Others were there; he felt the unmistakable red haze of Vegeta and the softer forces of Trunks, Goten, Yamcha and Pan. He put two fingers to his forehead.

The quiet of the house fell away, replaced by a scene of such activity and noise that it nearly made Piccolo stagger. People standing too close cried out and jumped back at the sudden appearance of a tall, green man and a blonde woman, giving them both space to catch their breath. "Where are we?" Khri gasped, all signs of anger gone.

"The fairgrounds outside Satan City. Gohan should be around here somewhere."

The large field had undergone a transformation since his last fly-over. Major streets leading into the city had been blocked off to make way for the carnival, all aircar traffic replaced by excited thrill-seekers and ticket lines. Beyond the gates loomed a ferris wheel and at least one roller coaster, and the level of noise hinted at other rides. One of the permanent structures of the fairgrounds was a tower with an enclosed revolving observation deck. Piccolo's nose twitched at the mingled smells of popcorn, cigarette smoke, roasting hot dogs and perfume. He took a step closer to Khri as the excited crowd urged them towards the busy gates.

"Piccolo! Over here!"

Standing off to one side and waving his arms was Gohan. He grinned and nudged Videl, who smiled and raised a hand in welcome. Bulma had been exaggerating when she'd insisted "everyone" would be coming; the missing faces included Tenshinhan, Chaozu, Goku and Uub. Even old Roshi had come along, no doubt to oggle the young females attending the carnival. Kuririn and Eighteen hovered close by, giving every sign they were keeping the old master on a very tight leash.

Piccolo looked disgustedly at the press of people separating them, then started walking purposefully in the direction of the familiar group. He suppressed a satisfied smirk as the crowd parted with a hiss of nervous whispers.

"We're glad you came!" Gohan said in greeting, still smiling. "We were afraid you'd change your mind at the last minute."

Over Gohan's shoulder Piccolo saw Vegeta leaning against the fence that surrounded the fairgrounds. "I almost did," he snorted, noticing that Vegeta's scowl did a poor job at hiding his nervousness. "But I knew I'd never hear the end of it."

Bulma pushed past Videl, a thick stack of paper tickets in her hand. "You came!" she crowed and gave Khri a quick hug. "Dear, the Thermal-derm clothing looks just wonderful on you!"

Trunks pushed past Goten and nodded. "Mom's right, Khri. You look great! Are the clothes warm enough? Heating evenly?"

_You don't know what you're talking about, kid. She's too thin,_ Piccolo thought, but didn't say anything when he saw Khri's face. She was blushing but didn't seem to be the least bit angry and her voice was full of warmth. "Thank you, Trunks, and thank you both for sending them." She brushed at one sleeve. "I can't believe how efficiently the heating grid works! Our fabrics always had trouble with hot spots."

"Just let us know which settings you use and how long the power lasts," Trunks grinned. "You really are helping us field test this stuff."

"We can talk about clothes later," Bulma said smoothly, earning a shocked look from Eighteen, then fanned the stack of tickets in the air. "There's one here for everybody! Now don't forget, the parade starts in one hour. We're all meeting for lunch at the big green pavilion near the front entrance at one o'clock sharp, so don't be late!" She began handing out the slips of paper. "You're on your own for dinner. Fireworks are at ten o'clock tonight, and since I rented the pavilion we've got the best seats!"

Standing in line behind Gohan and Videl, Piccolo studied the two paper tickets Bulma thrust at him. For some reason the woman felt _he_ should hold Khri's ticket as well as his own. Standing beside him, her anger with him apparently forgotten in the noise and shuffle, Khri seemed to be looking for someone or something. She tapped Videl's shoulder. "Where is Pan? I don't see Marron or Bra, either."

Videl's cheeks colored and her smile was painful. "Um . . . my father invited the girls to ride on the float with him and Buu. The tournament sponsors wanted a public figure, so . . .he was asked to be Master of Ceremonies . . . "

Piccolo snorted in disgust. "So I should be somewhere else during the parade" _I am not going to put up with watching that foolish old fraud make a bigger ass out of himself than he already is. _He couldn't help feeling a twinge of sympathy for Videl. The old fool was, after all, her father. It wasn't her fault he'd taken the credit for ridding the universe of Cell and had been profiting from it ever since.

Gohan nodded gratefully at Piccolo and gave his wife a gentle squeeze. "Pan was all excited about riding along with the 'Savior of the World,' who just so happens to be her grandfather." As the _real_ savior, Gohan had said more than once he was happy living in obscurity. He felt that the money Mr. Satan raked in provided a good home for Videl. She'd grown up knowing nothing but love from her doting father. "We'll be picking her up after the parade," Gohan continued as the line shuffled forward. "I'm glad you came, Khri. Pan was hoping you would. She'll be thrilled to see you."

"The feeling is mutual, Gohan," Khri replied with a smile. "She promised me she'd introduce me to 'cotton candy,' whatever that is."

The ticket gate inched closer. "Pan is just like her grandpa Goku," Videl laughed. "She's got an incurable sweet tooth." She faced forward to take her turn through the turnstiles behind Gohan. A bored teenager accepted Piccolo's tickets without so much as a gasp or double-take. He followed Khri through the turnstiles and nearly stopped in shock and disgust.

The carnival had been decked out to celebrate more than just the tournament. Effigies of Mr. Satan were everywhere, his stupid grin plastered on banners, posters, and signs. A gilded throne had been erected on the podium beneath the band shell, the final destination of the parade. His grinning face floated by on a mylar balloon and an imposter wearing an outrageous Mr. Satan costume was posing for pictures with eager guests.

Khri's hand tucked itself under his arm and pulled him away from the gate. "Piccolo, are you all right?"

"No." A stolen glance at Vegeta confirmed the Saiyan was just as furious has he was. _Dammit, I _knew_ I shouldn't have let Bulma talk me into this!_

"Sorry I didn't tell you about this earlier, Piccolo," Gohan said, his embarrassed grin the mirror image of his father's. "The tournament promoters and sponsors decided to use the fight with Cell as the theme for the carnival."

"Now you tell me!" A young father lugging a huge stuffed toy of Mr. Satan staggered by. "That would explain why Cell's head is hovering over that hot dog stand!"

Gohan looked up at the huge balloon shaped like the android. "Uh...I suppose it would." He whispered something to Khri that Piccolo didn't catch. He was too busy glaring at a child wearing a baseball cap with Cell's grinning head perched on the top.

"Piccolo, who is Cell?"

He stared down in surprise at Khri's curious expression. _She's never heard of Cell? How could she not know about the Cell Games? _"I'll explain it later," he growled. "Let's get out of here before that damned parade starts." He didn't bother waving goodbye at Gohan, ignored Bulma's loud reminder about lunch, and led Khri in the opposite direction of the flashing arcade sign. That was the _last_ place he wanted to be.

The few hours before lunch were an exercise in stealth and diversion. Khri seemed content to follow his lead and they wandered aimlessly through the crowds and noise. Every so often he would nudge or push her in a particular direction and start walking as fast as possible. _I should just tell her,_ he conceded as he stepped between Khri's line of sight and another source of embarrassment. Her frowns at his erratic behavior were becoming more and more severe and he knew time was running out. _She's going to see sooner or later . . . if I tell her before she sees for herself I'll have more control. How am I going to explain it to her?_

The pathetic magic act Khri had insisted on watching finally ended and it was time to find Bulma's pavilion. The crowds had grown thicker after the end of the parade, the heavy foot traffic slowing any progress. Once Piccolo cleared his throat, however, people were more than willing to make a path for him. Khri insisted on a quick stop at the roller coaster, but not to ride it. "I've been on machines like that one," she told him, watching as a group of teens screamed their way down the first hill.

"You've been to carnivals on other worlds?" He glared at a nearby souvenir vendor, who cowered and took cover under the awning of his cart. Piccolo smoothly stepped between it and Khri, blocking her view.

"No." Her smile was wry. "It was a high-speed combat simulator. And it wasn't fun."

He nodded, gratefully taking the hint she wasn't interested in getting on any of the so-called "amusement rides." They moved on, paused long enough to watch the ferris wheel revolve a few times, then stumbled on an attraction called the "Tunnel of Love." Small trolley cars big enough for two passengers rolled out of a fake tunnel and the riders walked away arm-in-arm. He shook his head in disgust. "I can't imagine why anybody would want to go in there!"

"Of course you wouldn't." Khri's voice was low and her face blank. She hadn't resorted to her protective mask all day until now. _Does that stupid ride remind her of something? Everyone she loved is dead . . . is that making her think of them?_ Piccolo was about to lead her away when she glanced at her wristwatch. "We need to move a bit faster. Everyone has probably reached the pavilion by now and Saiyans aren't known for leaving leftovers."

The remainder of their walk a quiet one in spite of the music from the band shell, the racket of the rides, the barkers and the low roar of the crowd. The urge to test her shielding was strong, but he knew nothing would be learned from it and she might take offense. _Maybe this whole thing was a mistake after all,_ he wondered. _Maybe I should just offer to take her home._ He tried to think of something to say that didn't sound stupid, but was saved by the interruption of a high-pitched squeal of delight.

"Mr. Piccolo! Khri!"

A bundle of energy wrapped in an orange gi and topped with unruly dark hair plowed into Khri, nearly knocking her off her feet. "You came!" shouted Pan as she threw her arms around Khri's neck. "I was afraid you wouldn't come!"

"It's good to see you too, Pan," Khri said softly, her voice thawing as she returned the child's hug.

Pan grinned brightly up at Piccolo. "Did you see me in the parade? Grandpa let me sit on his lap and wave to the crowd!"

ChiChi appeared and held her arms out for her granddaughter. "Come on, Pan, you can tell Khri all about it at the table! Your papa is going to get you some food, so we need get you cleaned up and sitting down. And you know you're not supposed to fly with so many people around!"

"Awww..." Pan pouted and slid down Khri to the ground, but grabbed her hand. "C'mon Khri, you can sit with me and Mama. You too, Mr. Piccolo!"

The large pavilion Bulma had rented was another of the permanent structures within the fairgrounds. Tucked in a corner away from the noise and crowds, it offered guests a respite from the warm afternoon sun. Its roof had been painted a bright green to match the tables and chairs it sheltered. Bright balloons fluttered from the support posts as a chef sweated over a huge grill overflowing with hamburgers and hot dogs. Caterers were putting out disposable plates and Saiyan-sized platters of food on a serving table. "Let's see if we can find a quiet table," Piccolo muttered, noticing Mr. Satan and Buu had taken a table for themselves and were devouring a mountain of burgers . . . with lots of onions.

A hand on his arm stopped him. "Not so fast, Mr. Piccolo," Gohan laughed. "I've been informed we gents are getting the food for the ladies. It's a good thing you only need one hand because I want to borrow your other!"

"I'll find seats for us," Khri promised, stepping onto the pavilion's concrete floor, "although I'm sure Pan has beat me to it."

The smell of roasting meat was overwhelming as Piccolo waited in line with the other men, tray in hand. He didn't have a clue as to what Khri would eat and was grateful when Gohan offered to help him out. While waiting for the chef to replenish the hamburgers Vegeta had polished off, he stole a glance back at the tables.

Khri was alone with _the women. All_of them.

Over the years, Piccolo's sporadic contact with the Son and Briefs families had taught him an important survival skill; _avoid the wives if they're in a group._ Vegeta, Kuririn, Yamcha and even Gohan never voluntarily stayed in the room if more than three of the women were present, two if one of them happened to be Bulma. They discussed subjects that made Vegeta blush, which was another good reason to stay away. Khri was seated beside Pan, who was ignoring Videl's requests to stop slurping her soda. The other women had taken seats across from her and were far too close for comfort.

The trays in his hands wobbled as Gohan piled them with servings of hot dogs and fried potato strips. He grimaced at the smell and focused on the group in the pavilion, disregarding the unimportant conversations. He wasn't surprised when Bulma's voice cut through the rest.

"Did you see that?" Her voice was incredulous.

"See what, Bulma?" ChiChi asked.

"Khri! Did you see what she did?"

A slight note of tension was in Khri's voice. "What did I do?"

"You . . . you looked!"

"What?"

"I saw where, so don't try to deny it! I can't believe it! Videl, you saw, didn't you?"

Gohan's wife sounded reluctant, if not a little embarrassed. "Aah . . . "

Bulma was triumphant. "See? Videl saw you, too! I'm not imagining things! What about you, Eighteen?"

"Hmm? Sorry, Bulma, but I was looking at the same thing Khri was."

"What?" ChiChi, Bulma and Videl shouted together.

Eighteen's cool voice was amused. "Well, its not something you see every day. It's too bad, too. I certainly can't blame her for looking."

"I didn't look! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"She's blushing!" ChiChi squealed in delight. "She knows exactly what we're getting at!"

"No, I don't! And I don't want to talk about this anymore!"

"Cut her some slack, you two," Eighteen broke in. "You have to admit it's an interesting view. I'm sure if you hadn't caught Khri doing it first you'd be taking a peek yourselves."

Bulma was laughing. "All right, I'll let it go. But just watch! I'll bet she looks again!"

"And you can't close your eyes," ChiChi cackled. "That's cheating!"

Khri's voice was a hoarse whisper. "I . . . I don't understand you Earth women at all!"

Piccolo couldn't stop himself from looking back at the canopy. Even at a distance he could see Khri's cheeks were burning, her mouth set and eyes glittering in an angry scowl. Videl gave her a pat on the shoulder as Pan stared at her in confusion. _What was that all about?_ This was the second time today he'd seen Khri openly embarrassed and furious, and he was just as clueless now as he had been that morning.

Gohan suddenly elbowed him. "Those are for Khri. I know it's a lot, but she should find something she likes. Give me a minute more while I load up Videl's plate." Ignoring the piles of fries and smelly food under his nose, Piccolo struggled to eavesdrop on the mysterious conversation behind him.

"Look, she did it again," Bulma gasped. "I know you saw it too, ChiChi, or you wouldn't be standing there with your jaws open, catching flies!"

There was a long pause. "I'm afraid she's right, Khri." Eighteen's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "You looked."

Khri's groan was muffled and almost inaudible. "I don't believe this. What do I do now?"

"It's simple, but it's actually hard to do," Videl said quietly. "Just act like it never happened. . ."

"And if the opportunity presents itself, look again!" Eighteen interrupted with a burst of rare laughter.

"You two are no help at all!"

He lost the rest of the conversation as Gohan, his own plates piled high, led them back to the tables. Piccolo ignored the women, still trying to figure out what was so important about 'looking.' Pan was demonstrating how to open a ketchup packet when he put the plates down in front of Khri. "You ok?"

"No." She glanced back and forth at the two plates. "Six hot dogs? Three hamburgers? Piccolo, I can't eat all of this!"

Piccolo sat down and leaned back in the chair, twisting the cap off a bottle of water. "Don't look at me. It was Gohan's idea."

For the better part of an hour Khri picked at her food. When others tried to draw her into their conversations her replies were polite but short. Piccolo didn't miss their worried looks. It was a relief when lunch finally ended and everyone began to amble towards the heart of the carnival. There were no plans for another gathering at dinner, but Bulma made it known she expected everyone to return to the pavilion to watch the fireworks.

Piccolo stood at the edge of the flowing crowd. An older woman toting two Mr. Satan dolls passed by, reminding him he still had a vigil to keep. The stress of being around so many humans was starting to make him short tempered and he longed for a quiet, secluded spot in which to meditate, if only for a few minutes. He had been so intent with watching out for potential problems when he realized Khri wasn't standing beside him. He caught sight of her heading for a squat, brick building on the opposite side of the midway. A quick burst of chi let him avoid the crowd and catch up with her. He grabbed her arm before she rounded a curving partition shielding a swinging door. "Where are you going?"

She gave him a puzzled frown. "In here. I'll only be a moment."

"Its too easy to get separated with all these people. If we did, I can't use chi to find you."

Khri's frown darkened. "You cannot follow me in here, Piccolo!"

_Why is she being so unreasonable?_ "Why not?"

Color bloomed in her cheeks and she thumped the sign on the door. "Because this is the women's bathroom!" She jerked her arm free, shoved the door open and disappeared.

Piccolo stared at the swaying door longer than he intended, fighting the blush that warmed his face and ears. He turned away and nearly ran down a handful of terrified women who had been waiting for him to step aside. They scurried out of his way as he barged through the crowded thoroughfare, seeking a quiet spot. He found one along side a supply trailer that still let him watch for Khri to reappear. A drop of sweat trickled down the back of his neck as the minutes ticked by. He took a deep, calming breath, eyes never leaving the door. _This day just keeps getting longer and longer . . . _he cringed as a reminder of his need to talk with Khri was paraded under his nose by a young boy. Women kept filing into the bathroom but there was no sign of Khri coming out.

That was when he realized it was just an entrance. The exit was in the _back_ of the building.

Even though he stood head and shoulders over everyone in sight, Piccolo had to resist the urge to hover for a better view. _Khri wasn't mad enough to just leave without telling me . . . would she?_ Hopefully she hadn't gone far. He skimmed the crowd, searching for her blonde head and trying to feel irritated rather than worried.

It took a moment but he spotted her a short distance from the restroom. She was standing with her back against a vending truck, surrounded by three men. Two were dark haired and the third was as blond as Khri herself, but all three were tall, muscular and extremely proud of their physiques. _Fighters,_Piccolo snorted. He opened his senses just enough to feel for chi. He recognized the empty spot where Khri's negative shielding burned but felt nothing exceptional from the men. _At least _they _think they're fighters. They're probably in the tournament tomorrow. But what do they want with Khri?_

The blond man was all smiles as he talked, his companions nodding along whenever he stopped to take a breath. Khri, however, wore a look of patience mixed with slight confusion. He was too far away and the noise of the crowd was too loud to overhear their conversation, but there was no mistaking the intent behind the blond man's next move.

Piccolo had seen his maneuver used by Yamcha when speaking with an attractive woman. It involved placing a hand on the wall beside the unsuspecting female and leaning close. It always had one of two possible outcomes; either the lady smiled and let Yamcha take her arm or he ended up with a bright red handprint across the side of his face. Khri's hand would leave more than just a welt. _I suppose I'd better do something before she takes his head off . . . not that I would mind._

". . . And as the Golden Serpent team, we've got some of the best tickets around!" The man's smile became a leer. "Box seats, babe!" A hand reached out and stroked one of Khri's long curls. Oblivious to the sudden frost in her eyes he babbled on. "And it would really mean a lot to us if a gorgeous thing like you were sitting in the front row, cheering us on when we win!"

Khri rescued the hair he'd wound around one fingertip. "Your offer is generous, but I already have a reserved seat. Friends of mine are also in the tournament. And here is one of them now."

Arms folded and his broad chest blocking the sun, Piccolo's menacing grin would have made his demonic sire proud. "Is there something you wanted?" he asked, his fangs glinting in the afternoon sun.

"You! You're. . . no!" the blond man stammered as he took a shaky step backward, hands thrown up in defense. "I . . . I mean, we were just . . . just . . ."

"J . . . Just leaving!" one of his team mates yipped. "We've got practice, right guys?"

"Right!" The pale scar across the third man's cheek whitened further when Piccolo's smile became a deep scowl. "We're leaving now . . . oh . . . ok?" Not waiting for permission he bolted, followed closely by the other two. They barged their way into the crowd, shoving and stepping on toes in their rush to get away.

Piccolo snorted in disgust, then looked down at Khri. "I can't let you out of my sight for one minute, can I?"

Her brows furrowed and an angry spark kindled in her eyes. "Why did you feel it necessary to scare them off? A few moments more and I would have been able to figure out what they were planning!"

His sarcastic reply was instantly forgotten. "What do you mean, 'planning'?"

Khri shook her head tightly as she headed for a nearby vendor selling drinks. "They call themselves the Golden Serpent team and are competing in the tournament tomorrow. I think they saw us together earlier, guessed you're part of the competition and decided to see if they could get information from me as to your strengths and weaknesses." She got in the line and studied the short menu. "I was waiting for them to ask me about your fighting style and your strong points as a team. Are you thirsty?"

Piccolo shook his head. "Wait . . . you think they were _spying_?"

Khri stepped up to the vendor's window. "One, please. Of course they were spying, even if they were damned sloppy about it. Why else would they have approached me when you weren't around?"

_She can't be that naive! Even I know what it looks like when males are interested in a female!_ He knew his eyes were wide but he refused to let his jaw drop. "Khri, you can't be serious!"

"I'm very serious." She accepted the cup, pocketed her change and took a long drink through the straw. "Are they cheating by asking such questions?"

"No! Khri, those idiots were . . . " _I can't believe I have to explain this!_ "They were . . . what did Gohan call it . . . 'hitting' on you!"

"Hitting?" Her face was the picture of confusion. "Piccolo, do you think they'd still be breathing if they had hit me? I do feel like I need to wash my hair, though . . ."

He was careful to keep his voice down. "Khri . . . I might have used the wrong description . . . those fools weren't spying . . . they were interested in you because . . . because you're a female they find attractive!"

The press of people blurred into the background as he watched her face for any sign of a recognizable emotion. Bulma probably would have been pleased by the attention. He would bet ChiChi would feel the same way but only after bawling them out. Guessing Videl's reaction was trickier, but Gohan's wife didn't put up with nonsense. Khri's face remained blank. "Oh."

_That's all she's going to say?_ "I understand you less than Earth women. And I don't understand them at all!"

A subtle change in the way she walked and the set of her jaw reminded him of her attitude in the presence of her subordinates. "It's not that complicated," she said, her voice crisp. "Most of my youth was spent in the family compounds on whichever planet my father resided. When I was tested and found to have certain skills needed in command, I spent years so immersed in training that time was a luxury I didn't have to waste. When I finally did have time, security was so tight it never seemed worth the effort to . . . socialize. I also had to consider the political ramifications of anything I did, and I didn't want to add to the rumors already in play."

_I think I'm starting to get the picture. _"And that's where Sai came in?"

Khri snorted. "Oh, we heard all the stories. There were rumors about the two of us for years, both before and after his betrothed died. Sai's job was to enable me to do what I did best; focus on deployments and everything directly involved with ship-to-ship and ground combat. If that meant keeping interested male officers away from my door, that's what he did."

Piccolo felt a fresh surge of anger at the man. Sure, he'd done his job well, but Khri had paid the price. Had she set aside her own wants and needs for so long she'd forgotten what they were? This brave, clever female was, for perhaps the first time in her life, without a purpose. Then an ugly thought intruded. Had Sai kept her isolated because of her duties . . . or for some personal reason of his own?

"It really doesn't matter anymore." Khri's eyes were downcast and her face flushed, as if she realized she'd said more than intended. "My race is dead. We're officially extinct. Second-guessing decisions I made long ago is pointless."

His expression softening, Piccolo looked down at her bowed head. There were so many questions he wanted to ask but felt it was too soon. _I'm glad she's alive and didn't die with the rest of her people,_ he admitted, _and that makes me just as selfish as Sai._ He was searching for something to say that didn't sound stupid when he froze mid-step. Jaw tightening and teeth grinding, he looked around in a near panic.

They were in the heart of the arcade.

Bells, whistles and the loud calls of barkers overpowered the sound of the crowd. Both sides of the midway were lined with games of skill and chance, all of which used flashing lights and blaring noises to attract anyone passing by. A loud bell rang over Piccolo's head, further abusing his aching eardrums. "Step up to the plate!" screeched one man juggling baseballs. "Hit a bottle, win a prize! Everyone's a winner!"

"Piccolo?"

"We need to get out of here. Now," he growled and started to take her arm.

Khri dodged his hand, eyes narrowed. "Not so fast. You've been pushing and prodding me all day! You've been deliberately trying to prevent me from seeing something that makes you uncomfortable, _and_ you've been avoiding this area of the carnival! I've been patient, waiting for you to tell me what it was and you've refused every opportunity!" She pressed a hand against his chest to keep him from moving. "Don't you think it's time you got this over with?"

Invisible walls were closing in. Piccolo stared over her shoulder, eyes shifting back and forth. He was surrounded and there was nothing he could do. "No! Just close your eyes and I'll get us out of here . . ."

"What? Close my eyes? What is it I'm supposed . . . to . . . " her voice trailed off as her gaze left him, focused on a moving target beyond his shoulder.

_Dammit!_

Khri brushed past him and headed straight for one of the games. It was one of those stupid "strong man" contests that supposedly measured your strength based on swinging a mallet and hitting a bell. Perched over the bell itself was a huge bust of Cell complete with glaring lights, blinking red eyes and an evil smile. One man in thick glasses watched in disappointment as the weight fell far short of the top. "Step right up!" the grey-haired barker called, waving a wad of bills at the next man in line. "Show Cell what you're made of!" Ignoring the game itself, Khri walked up to the prize booth, eyes open wide in shock.

"There! Now you've seen it!" It was all Piccolo could to do to keep from powering up and blasting everything in sight. "Let's get out of here!"

"Piccolo . . . is . . . is that . . . supposed to . . . be . . . _you?_"

He tried to keep his voice low. "Yes! Now let's go, dammit!"

Khri's shoulders trembled under his hand but she refused to budge. She was staring at the large stuffed toys that crowded the booth's back wall and dangled from a clothesline draped over the window. There were a few of Mr. Satan left and at least one Cell, but there were plenty of others just waiting to be won. Among them were at least half a dozen draped in white, complete with turban, purple gi and green, pointed ears.

Piccolo felt his face start to burn. _It would only take a second! I could fry this whole place into ash in an instant! I'd never have to . . . _

"Puh . . . Piccolo!"

Khri was laughing. It started as a soft chuckle that grew into a snicker too big to hide behind her hands. He watched in humiliation as she threw her head back and laughed until her eyes watered and her nose ran, prompting her to snag a paper napkin from a neighboring hot dog stand. Face and ears purple with embarrassment, Piccolo glowered at her untilshe clutched her ribs. "Are you finished?"

"Oh . . . oh Piccolo . . ." she panted. "I . . . I'm sorry! I can't . . . seem to stop! Now . . . now I know why Gohan . . . told me to stay away . . . from the frozen novelty vendors!"

The last of his patience trickled away. "Khri, cut it out!"

"I'm . . . I'm trying!" She blew her nose into the napkin. "But . . . but . . ."

"What?"

"I . . . I understand that one is called Cell, and there's Mr. Satan. I think I recognize Yamcha and Kuririn, but . . but who are the others?"

Piccolo named them for her as she pointed to them in turn. "That one is Goku, then Gohan. The one with the pinwheel stuck in his shirt is Trunks."

Khri coughed lightly and scowled, obviously trying very hard to pull herself together. "But why do they have blond hair and blue-green eyes?"

"Because they're supposed to be super Saiyan. It's a long story."

"I can imagine." Khri smiled and nodded towards a particularly fierce-looking doll on the end. "That must be Vegeta. I'd recognize those eyebrows anywhere."

"It is. Now let's get out of here before I change my mind about leveling this place."

He felt a light touch on his arm. "But . . ."

"Now what?"

Her gaze slid back to the booth. "I . . I want one!"

Piccolo heard Khri's request very clearly. His brain, however, refused to believe what his ears just told him. The outrage boiling through him spilled out with a roar. "Wh . . . _what!_"

Her shining eyes were full of challenge. "You heard me, Namek! I want one, and you know which one!"

"_Why!_"

To his surprise, Khri looked away. Her face was still flushed from laughing and a small smile curled one corner of her mouth. "Because . . . it reminds me of a rotten little Namekian I abandoned here on Earth a long time ago." She cast a longing look at the toys hanging in the booth.

Her wistful expression helped to cool Piccolo's anger. _Abandoned? Is that how she remembers it? She feels she _abandoned_ me?_ He leveled one last glare at the stuffed toy. _The idiot who designed it has my turban too big and my ears to small. It's a piece of crap._

_And she wants it._

The barker saw him coming. So did the four men in coral gi's who hastily stepped back to let him take their place in line. "Step right up, sir! Everyone's a winner here! Show the pretty lady you could take Cell down by yourself!" The man's sunburned face instantly went pale. "Wait . . . aren't you . . .?"

The size of the mallet was deceptive. It looked like it had the heft and weight of a small aircar on a stick. When Piccolo picked it up, he found it was foam rubber painted to look like wood and metal. He gave the high striker a quick inspection, then graced the barker with a wicked sneer.

"Piccolo, wait!" Khri shouted as he positioned his feet and raised the mallet over his head. "You don't have to . . .!"

_WHAM!_ The mallet hit with such force the bulky head broke off the handle and went flying. The striker shattered and the weight rocketed to the top. The bell clanged twice; once as the weight pierced through the bottom and again when it launched out the top. It hit the replica of Cell through the chin and kept going. Its glowing eyes flickered, then went dark. Several loud pops and snaps warned everyone before Cell burst into a shower of sparks and smoke. Piccolo let the broken handle fall and smiled in satisfaction. "Heh. Now _that_was _fun_."

Khri had thrown her arms over her face when bits of glass and ash started falling. "You didn't have to go that far," she muttered, brushing debris from her hair.

He turned an evil grin on her. "No. But I feel better now." His grin fell and his lip curled in disgust. "Wasn't there a point to all this?"

"Yes!" She raced over to the booth, where the terrified worker scrambled to free her selection from the rack. When she returned she clutched his stuffed likeness tightly in both arms. "Did you still want to leave the arcade?"

"I wouldn't mind pulverizing another one of these . . ." Piccolo looked down the midway for the next attraction. It was a shooting game that used a small pellet gun to hit a row of little plastic ducks. The games just beyond it involved cards and spinning a wheel, which held no interest for him. Having weathered the humiliation he'd been dreading for days, he was about to suggest they walk a bit further when he caught a whiff of smoke. He glanced up, but Cell's bust had stopped burning and the lights had gone dark. He peered down the midway, looking for a possible source.

Khri's gaze followed his. "My eyes aren't as good as yours in daylight. What do you see?"

"Wreckage." Several thin columns of black smoke were pouring into the sky. "Damn. Looks like Vegeta beat me to it." He shrugged off his disappointment. "If you're through laughing at me, let's get out of here."

"Let's go back towards the ferris wheel," she suggested. "I think I remember seeing a vendor advertising ice cream sundaes. I want one of those, too. A big one. With lots of gooey chocolate and whipped cream."

Standing beside the terrified barker, the fighters in coral stared openly as Piccolo led Khri past the wreckage. Before they were out of earshot he heard one voice stammer, "that . . . that was the Demon King!"

"But . . . there's a _girl_ with him!"

"I don't believe it! How . . . how does a guy like _that_ . . . get a babe who looks like _that_?"

"I dunno . . . some girls can be really weird. I wonder what she _sees_ in a monster like him?"

_I hope she didn't hear that!_ Piccolo was half-turned, ready to "straighten them out" when Khri moved closer. She slipped her arm between his rib cage and elbow, her hand resting on his bicep. He heard a collective gasp behind him and was tempted to look back just to enjoy their shock. Instead, he studied Khri, who kept a tight grip on her prize with her free arm, face neutral as she studied the crowd ahead. In the past he would have forcefully shrugged free from anyone who touched him like that – including Gohan – but this time he found the contact didn't annoy him. It was almost . . . pleasant. _Maybe she did hear after all, _he wondered, bending his arm to make her hold more comfortable.

_And maybe it wasn't a bad thing after all._

* * *

Fountains of gold, purple, blue and green erupted in the night sky, sending a waterfall of tiny sparks cascading down and winking out. There was another soft boom, followed by a brilliant flare of silver that scattered across the first stars. A soft breeze had stirred up at sunset and was working hard to shred the faint wisps of smoke.

"Piccolo?"

"Hmmm?"

"You were right. This is a much better spot to watch the fireworks than the pavilion."

The tower had been one of the first rides to shut down for the night. Red and white lights still strobed up and down the sides of the tower, but they didn't interfere with the spectacular view from the roof of the observation deck. Comfortably tucked in his favorite meditative position, Piccolo watched as a faint curl of cloud trickled across the face of the crescent moon. "It's a lot quieter up here, too." He caught Khri's answering grin. It wasn't a direct request to keep the peace but she acknowledged the hint.

The incident with the high striker, as embarrassing as it was, had brought about a change in her. Over the rest of the afternoon and evening he'd watched the tiny lines fade from around her eyes. It was as if her face had shed years as well as much of her grief. She reminded him of the Khri he'd gotten to know before the loss of her family, friends and former life. The current silence between them was a comfortable thing, not a void full of worry that screamed to be filled with who-knew-what. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing the built-up tension of the day to finally release.

Khri was stretched out beside him, propped on her elbows as she watched the fireworks, the stupid stuffed toy resting in her lap. She suddenly shivered and sat up straight, folding her legs and hugging the toy against her chest.

"How long has it been since the heating coil batteries lost power?" he rumbled.

"About fifteen minutes." The next shiver was more intense.

"Why didn't you say something?"

Faint moonlight and the soft glow of a bright yellow rocket lit her smile. "I wanted to see the fireworks. A little cold won't hurt me."

Piccolo watched as a brilliant flower of fuchsia spread across the sky, inspiring a distant chorus of "oohs" and "aahs." He sat through at least three more bursts before he looked back at Khri. "Don't tell me that damn thing is keeping you warm."

He almost missed the devious glint in her eyes. "Well . . . If I hold it like this . . ."

"Khri, knock it off!"

"Sorry," she chuckled, then let the silence return.

He covertly watched her as she tried to hide her discomfort. It was still at least ten minutes until the finale, something neither of them wanted to miss. He considered offering to take her home but that would disappoint her. _There is another option . . . but should I even try?_

He couldn't be certain if his next statement startled her or if it was another shiver. "You don't have to put up with being cold, you know." Khri cocked her head as she looked at him. She frowned in confusion until he raised one arm and outstretched his hand.

Piccolo tensed, waiting to see what she would do. She reminded him of one of the squirrels that nested in a tree near his waterfall. Skittish at first, the little creature had grown used to him to a point where he felt, if he wanted, he could reach out and touch it before it flitted away. The intriguing creature sitting beside him was timid for very different reasons and he wondered if he'd pushed her too far. He was about to lower his arm in defeat when Khri slowly crept closer. Her shoulder pressed into his side and he carefully slid his arm around her back. He funneled enough power into his chi to heat the surrounding air and was rewarded with her sigh of gratitude.

_This day is ending a lot differently than it started,_he thought, puzzled as to why having Khri's tall form against him felt so confusing. Gohan had used him as a pillow more times than he could count. The boy had squirmed in his sleep, occasionally crying out in a nightmare or laughing in an absurd dream. Khri didn't move, but he could feel her breathing and the slow unwinding of tight muscles. She settled comfortably against him, her eyes never leaving the fireworks.

The booms of the launching rockets stepped up in pace, signaling the start of the finale. The crowds below roared in appreciation as the sky filled with multiple bursts of light and color. As he thought back over the day, Piccolo found he only had one regret.

_It's too bad the finale is only ten minutes long._

_To Be Continued . . . _

* * *

AN: Not much was left on the cutting room floor when I edited this chapter. It's been in my head from the very start. I had FAR too much fun visualizing this, which is why it took so long! There is an illustration over at my DeviantArt page. And yes, it includes her prize. :-)

Dreamwraith: Khri's silence during the "fight" scene in Ch. 20 was deliberate. It's the way she is, and you'll find out more about it in the next few chapters. 

AceOfAuthors: Again, thanks for the great review, and I'm glad you're keeping up with the story!

Selene-13: Its good to see you're still enjoying this story, and I'm pleased it helped you with your own fic. I hope you enjoy this chapter and the ones to come!


	22. Face in the Crowd

"Errant Exile"

Chapter 22: _"Face in the Crowd "_

* * *

Bright blue sky framed the outline of the huge Satan City Stadium. Not a single cloud threatened the sun, but the yellow blimp that hovered over the stands caused the occasional eclipse. A slight breeze set the jewel-toned pennants waving and cooled the crowd of excited ticket-holders waiting for their turn through the gates. The scents of roasting hot dogs, spilled beer, fried potatoes, and fresh popcorn mingled with the smells of machine oil, perfumes and recently cut grass. Khri inhaled deeply through her nose and let the fragrant air fill her lungs as a noisy television helicopter flew overhead. _These are the smells and sounds of life._ She exhaled and took another deep breath. _And the fact that I'm here, experiencing it all, and I'm not alone . . . it's amazing how such simple things remind me it can be good to be alive._

Khri had traveled to the tournament alone in her aircar, now safely tucked into its capsule in the inside pocket of her leather jacket. Piccolo had left before dawn, determined to rid Goten of any lingering thoughts he might have about defying the decision not to use chi. Gohan, Videl and Pan had been waiting for her just outside the main gates. The others, Gohan explained, had already passed through the turnstiles and were waiting for them inside. The line to get in was long but Khri was content to wait. It gave her time to study the conflict between her memories of the stadium and the numerous changes that caught her eye.

Pan's strong stubby fingers tightened around hers as she looked up at Khri with shining eyes and a huge grin. Khri returned the smile, but she couldn't help but see another face in addition to Pan's. _He wasn't much smaller when were first met here, all those years ago, and he certainly wasn't as well-behaved! At least I don't have to worry about this little one taking a bite out of me._ She chuckled softly as she brushed a tendril of loose hair from her face.

Gohan nudged a half-step closer. "What's so funny?"

She took another deep breath, pushing the image aside and forcing herself to return to the present. "I was here once before. It was a long time ago, but I've never forgotten it."

The line shuffled forward as he stared at her in puzzlement. His eyes flew wide and he gasped, head turning to stare at the stadium's towering walls. "You mean . . . here? This is the place where you first met . . .? "

Khri nodded, taking in the rippling flags that waved in the breeze and the huge promotional posters of Mr. Satan and other well-known fighters draping the walls. "So much has changed since then! The stadium looks the same, but there were fewer people and Mr. Satan wasn't leering down at me. I didn't get to see any of the actual fighting . . . unless you count what happened in the warm-up rooms."

Gohan glanced down at his daughter, whose attention was fixed on the huge display of balloons and toys peddled by a nearby vendor. "I'd love to hear your side of that story. Piccolo doesn't talk about his childhood, but over the years he's made a few remarks that it wasn't pleasant. You're the only one I know of who knew him when he was that young."

"I don't know if you could call it 'knowing,' Gohan. Our encounter lasted less than a day." Off to the right, Khri saw the entrance leading to the south tunnel where she'd once hidden, whispering instructions to her team through her battle array. _It's going to be easy to get lost in memories here,_ she conceded. _I'll think about them later, but for now I've got to stay focused._ She shaded her eyes with her free hand and quickly scanned the excited crowd. Once their tickets had been given to the gate attendant they were free to pass through the turnstiles into the stadium.

The excitement, laughter and noise of the surrounding crowd reminded Khri of the carnival. She'd been distracted almost the entire day, occasionally catching a glimpse of a face that looked familiar. There were several that could have belonged to any of Earth's native races, but there were exceptions. She counted at least seven different species she knew were as alien as she was. Piccolo had been so preoccupied with whatever was making him nervous he hadn't noticed her careful scrutiny of the faces they passed. Concern fought with irritation every time he pushed or poked her into a different direction or moved to block her view. When he'd grabbed her arm one too many times she challenged him, and then discovered for herself the source of his fears. The memory tried to escape through a giggle, but she covered her mouth and changed it to a cough. He'd snarled and complained about winning the stuffed toy for her and then surprised her by going through with it. Piccolo's gleeful destruction of the strong man game snapped the tension they'd both struggled with all afternoon, letting them spend the rest of the day in comfortable companionship.

And then there had been the fireworks.

Khri felt a tightening in her stomach at the memory of Piccolo's faint smile and outstretched arm. It had taken a moment to understand what it was he was offering and when she did she felt stupid for underestimating him. _He knew I was getting cold but knew I didn't want to leave. Just because he's coarse and gruff most of the time doesn't mean he isn't considerate._

It had been years since someone had held her that closely for so long. It had been her father's arms around her when her brother Khedmi's' body had been brought home. His embrace held love and comfort; Piccolo's was different. She fumbled for the word and the only one that made any sense was 'safe.' But the fit wasn't perfect. A warmer feeling lingered long after he'd taken her home and she couldn't find a way to describe it. The thick, muscled arm he'd slid around her shoulders and the broad chest warming her shoulder were powerful reminders that "Junior" wasn't so junior anymore. _In fact,_she admitted as her stomach somersaulted again, _it's becoming harder and harder to think of him as ever having been a knee-high Namekian._

"Gohan! Yoo Hoo! Over here!"

Bulma had to jump up and down to be seen above the crowd. Bra, Master Roshi, Kuririn and his family waved in welcome. "What took you so long," ChiChi asked as her granddaughter gave her a flying hug and crushing her box of popcorn.

"Sorry, Mother." Videl brushed a strand of dark hair from her eyes. "Pan insisted on wearing the gi that looks like Goku's but it was in the dryer."

"I'm afraid I was running a little late, too," Khri admitted. "It took longer to find a landing spot for my aircar than I anticipated."

Bulma glanced irritably at her watch. "We've got just enough time to grab any last minute snacks and find our seats before the opening ceremonies start, so let's move!" She waived Kuririn and the other towards the end of the concourse that lead to the second tier of seats.

"The only thing we'd be missing is Mr. Satan's grandstanding," Kuririn whispered behind Bulma's back and was answered with giggles or sympathetic eye-rolling.

The path to Bulma's reserved seats was a long one, but she promised the view would be well worth it. Khri had to fight nostalgia with every step, present day images mixed with memories of a nearly identical day thirty years ago. She struggled to hide her disbelief when they stopped at the same concessions stand where she'd met Sai, with "Junior" tucked under her arm. That day it had been empty and dark. This time all the lights were on and the area was packed with hungry spectators either waiting to order or carrying away hot dogs and sodas.

Khri spent her time waiting in line people-watching. She recognized a few of the alien species she'd seen at the carnival but no specific face was familiar. _Stop it,_ she admonished herself, tearing her eyes from the back of a tall, fair-haired older man with a beard. _I'm _Dorhanhai_ now, whether I like it or not. It's time to start acting like it. Watching for threats is one matter; searching for ghosts is another._

When her turn at the concessions stand window came, Khri remembered the odd lurching her stomach had done earlier. She decided to stay away from the rich foods and ordered lemonade, a citrus drink she'd never tried before. Pleased with its cold, sweet-sour taste, she followed the others out of the concessions area and down a flight of broad concrete steps. Bulma peered around her burden of popcorn and sodas and ushered them down to an empty block of seats at the front of the deck. She prodded Master Roshi in first, gave the old man a warning glare, then settled down beside him.

Bra was pouting. "Mama, why didn't you reserve Capsule's box seats for this?" She stepped on the toes of a heavy set man in a tropical shirt before she flounced down on the hard seat between her mother and Marron. "I hate sitting on these bleachers for so long!"

"Dear, we've been through this!" Bulma handed her daughter a box of popcorn and a soda. "If there's one thing I've learned it's to _never_ get too close to the field if Vegeta or Piccolo are competing! I swear, those two love destroying the ring as much as they do their opponents." She turned to smile at Gohan's family and Khri, who were taking seats on the bleachers directly behind her. "I purchased these specific seats because they're close to the nearest exit if we have to evacuate the stadium again. They've also got a good view."

Khri's nearly choked on a mouthful of lemonade. _Evacuate the stadium? You mean they're _used_ to these contests being dangerous for spectators?_ Neither Gohan nor Kuririn seemed surprised by Bulma's admission; they simply nodded in agreement and kept munching. Gohan had mentioned earlier the tournament tickets were completely sold out. _All these people are willing to risk their lives just to see hand-to-hand combat?_ She gave her head a little shake and snorted. _I'll never understand Earth._

Bulma's contingency planning aside, Khri had to admit they _did_ have good seats. Their spot on the second tier gave them an unobstructed view of the center of the ring. She was seated behind Bulma with Gohan on her right and a sour-faced old woman to her left. "It's been so long since I've been to a tournament," Marron squealed. "I just know Goten will win! He's been working so hard lately, he's got to be the strongest fighter out there!"

Girlish laughter twittered behind them. Marron tucked a strand of pale hair behind her ear and looked over her shoulder with a confused scowl. Khri pretended to study the program booklet while sneaking a peek herself.

A half-dozen of attractive young women sat huddled together on the bleachers behind their group. They were laughing and cooing over an assortment of large, glossy posters and photographs. The poses were different, but all of them featured the faces of four sneering young men arranged around a familiar symbol. _The Golden Serpent Team's harem,_ Khri growled to herself. The girls had equipped themselves with enough souvenirs to stock a mall. Most of them wore low-cut yellow jerseys with the team's insignia and had decorated their faces with sparkling gold paint. Their lead female was a well-endowed brunette with icy green eyes. She brushed her long, black hair over her shoulder as she laughed at whatever nonsense the girl seated next to her spouted. Khri turned back in time to see Bulma punch Roshi's shoulder and shove a tissue in his face. _I just hope none of those girls are foolish enough to get caught alone with one of those "serpents."_ She tugged the zipper on her jacket upward against a sudden chill in spite of the heat burning in her cheeks.

Growing up High Clan, then spending years as a high ranking officer in a public position had its perks. Constant security and a demanding job had given Khri plenty of opportunities to interact with interested men, but never once had she been approached in the aggressive, insulting manner used by the Golden Serpent fighters. She'd been so distracted she'd missed all the cues. And it wasn't until much later – after thinking about Piccolo's awkward explanation – that she realized the true meanings and suggestions behind the insults. Watching other men and women give each other subtle and brazen invitations had been one thing. Being the unexpected target of lines like "there's more muscle to me than just what you see" had been quite another. When realization hit later she'd cursed her stupidity, but was grateful she hadn't thought to ask Piccolo what the statement meant. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what his reaction would have been.

The loudspeakers boomed the announcement of the start of the opening ceremonies. A roar of approval rippled through the packed stands and everyone jumped to their feet to cheer as Mr Satan strolled onto the stage. With a toothy smile stretched from ear to ear, he waved at the adoring crowd. Sunlight sparkled through the fake gemstones encrusting his long, white, fur-lined coat and glared off his balding head. Khri noticed Videl's eyes were crinkled in indulgent fondness as she watched her father strut like an aging rock star. _He may be a phony, but at least she still has him._ Mr. Satan's flowery speech came and went while Khri fought with fresh grief and an unwelcome twinge of jealousy. She got unexpected help when Mr. Satan called for the fighters to parade onto the field and handed the microphone over to the official announcer. Grateful for the distraction, Khri stood up as everyone leapt to their feet in thunderous applause.

The huge prize offered to the winner had brought in more than just spectators. Thirty teams of four contestants each sauntered out onto the field to bask in the cheers before Piccolo's team was called. Vegeta was the first to appear, his scowl hot enough to scorch anything and anyone in his path. He was followed by a grinning and waving Trunks and Goten, and Khri could hear distant feminine squeals and shouts in addition to Bulma and Bra's. Unlike other teams with mighty titles and flashy, matching uniforms, they'd chosen to stick with their entry number – "Team Twenty-Seven" – and individual preferences in clothing. Vegeta and Trunks both wore light armor with a noticeable Saiyan influence. Goten's orange gi, explained Kuririn, paid homage to both his father and Master Roshi. They walked in single file to their designated spots and waited for the handful of remaining teams to file out. Piccolo stood on Goten's left, his pristine cape waving in the breeze and a frown of stubborn challenge on his face. Khri sighed at the sight of his loose purple gi. _I suppose his usual clothes are practical, but I do miss the jeans._

The paper cup crumpled and the lid came off when she nearly crushed it, splashing lemonade over her fingers. _Not this again!_ The image of Piccolo dressed in casual street clothing popped into her mind for the umpteenth time since the carnival. _Thousands of well-toned officers with broad chests and tight butts have paraded in front of me for years and I never gave them a second look. And now what gets my attention? A Namek in a pair of tight blue jeans!_ She pulled in a deep, calming breath and let the loud cheers help distract her from the unsettling memory. _I'm still emotionally shaken,_ she reminded herself_. I'm feeling out of sorts and I'm not thinking clearly because of all that's happened. I just need more time and I'll be fine. _She forced herself to smile, set her mauled cup on her seat and joined in the applause.

"Go, Goten!" hooted Gohan, Videl, Pan, Marron and ChiChi as they waved madly, trying to catch the fighters' attention. "Go, Vegeta! Go, Trunks!" screamed Bulma and Bra together. Kuririn jammed two fingers in his mouth and whistled while a dignified Eighteen applauded.

Khri looked back and forth between the competing families in dismay. _I thought this was supposed to be a team effort!_ She took a deep breath, cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Go, Piccolo!"

Arms folded and jaw set, Piccolo's left ear twitched. He blinked, his eyes rounding as he looked up into the stands. Khri felt a nudge against her shielding an instant before his eyes met hers. He stared at her a moment, then one side of his mouth curled into a slight smile. Even at a distance she could see his cheeks take on a faint purple glow. She returned the smile, feeling her own face grow warm as she waved, oblivious to the stunned expressions and low murmurs of nearby spectators as they turned to stare up at her.

"Go, Mister Piccolo!" shrieked a high voice beside her. Pan appeared to be sitting on her father's shoulders but Gohan's hands were wrapped around her ankles, preventing her from "accidentally" flying off. The little girl's eyes sparkled as she waved at the fighters on the field. Piccolo's smile and blush deepened as he nodded once at Pan, then looked back at Khri.

A small, furry creature with multiple wings fluttered in her stomach. Piccolo held her gaze a moment longer, eye ridges knitting in what she'd come to recognize as confusion. He finally blinked again and looked away as the announcer finished with the introductions. The crowd roared as the first round of teams moved to opposite sides of the field and the rest filed back into the dojo.

Khri remembered to pick up her cup before she sat back down as everyone took their seats. She studied her half-empty cup of lemonade with a skeptical eye. During her time on Earth she'd developed a taste for juices, especially the citrus kind, but there were several she'd learned to avoid. _This might be another one_, she conceded She popped off the plastic lid and fished out an ice cube as first match began.

_WHACK!_

Sharp pain flared through Khri's left knee. She nearly choked, swallowing the ice cube whole as she stared down at the old woman seated beside her. The crone's mouth was turned down beneath a wrinkled nose, her rheumy, blue eyes flecked with too much mascara. "Shame on you," she snapped, her white knuckles twisted around the battered cane she shook at Khri. "You should be ashamed of yourself, a pretty girl like you rooting for that . . . that thing!"

"Hey!" Pan wailed from Gohan's lap, "that wasn't very nice!"

"I . . . pardon me?" Khri gasped, stunned.

"You're right, Pan, that wasn't nice!" Gohan handed his daughter off to Videl and leaned forward. "Why did you hit her? All she was doing was cheering for a friend!"

Her assailant waved the cane at the ring. "You just saw all those strong, handsome young men out there!" she snarled. "They're Earth's heroes! They want nothing more to protect us!" Her pale eyes focused on Gohan. "Your friend is a foolish young woman! She could be like those lovely girls there" – she gestured backward at the watching Golden Serpent fans – "cheering for real heroes, but what does she do? She wants that . . . that _monster_ and _his_ team to win!"

Khri stiffened and heard several angry gasps. _What the hell is wrong with all the elders on this planet? _She pressed her lips together and resisted the urge to rub the sting from her knee. _This woman is human, and close to the end of her life span. She must have the brain wasting condition humans call 'senility.'_ She placed her hand respectfully over her heart and bowed from her shoulders. "With all due respect, elder, I believe I'm allowed to make my own choice when it comes to the fighter I'll cheer for."

The old woman leaned back. "Heh! You are foolish if you think they stand a chance against heroes like the Golden Boys." Several of the young women cheered and were now openly giggling at Khri's expense.

Khri pressed her tongue against her gritted teeth. _I'm not wasting another moment on this stupidity._ "Believe as you will, elder," she said in a low voice and turned away. "It's all right, Gohan. Let it go."

Bulma had been watching the exchange and turned an icy glare of pure malice on the old woman. "Crowds never used to be like this," Bulma confided, absently patting the bruised spot on Khri's knee. "When I was a young girl, tournaments used to be about fighting one-on-one to find out who was the strongest. Now, it's all one big popularity contest." She waved a dismissive hand at the catty group of girls. "Mature, confident women like myself aren't bothered by a bunch of nosy old busybodies or snotty prep school girls drooling over a bunch of color-coordinated posers." She crossed her arms and turned back to watch the first two teams try to eliminate each other, scoring points for the next round.

Khri decided to follow Bulma's example by ignoring the offenders and watching the tournament. Team after team – each with their own cheering fans – either left the field with heads and fists held high or on stretchers. She was disappointed to learn that no weapons were allowed but there was no shortage of entertainment. Some of the fights could have been mistaken for sideshow acts but the crowd loved it anyway. When a team dressed in fur loincloths, one of them a woman in a cheetah print bikini, sauntered onto the field, Videl rolled her eyes and offered to fill orders for fresh drinks and snacks. Eighteen was more than eager to lend a helping hand and the two of them headed for the concessions stand.

Khri leaned closer to Gohan as the woman in the bikini wiggled in a way designed to distract her opponent. "From what I've seen so far, I can't believe Piccolo and Vegeta are going through with this! These so-called fighters belong in a circus, not a martial arts tournament! Can you sense chi from them?"

Gohan shook his head. "Barely enough to light a match, but," he added with a sudden grin, "Piccolo had an idea for a new technique and managed to convince Vegeta to go along with it. It will make fighting more of a challenge for them, and a challenge is something neither Vegeta nor Piccolo can resist."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow. "The only times Piccolo talked about the tournament usually involved rather . . . er . . . 'colorful' language. He never said anything about a new technique."

His grin softened and warmed. "Maybe that's because he got the idea from you."

Khri blinked in confusion. _What? Me?_ "Gohan, he's one of the most accomplished fighters I've ever seen, and I have yet to see what he can do with chi! I can't imagine how I could have given him any ideas. The one time we . . . sparred . . . he volunteered not to use chi because of the risks around blackfire! It takes a lot of control not to use . . ." The rest of her reply apart as realization set in.

Gohan's smile never faded. "Dad, Goten, Piccolo . . . we've all been using chi since before we could walk, even if we weren't aware of it. Dad and Piccolo mastered flight about the same time and it's been a nonstop friendly competition every since." He suddenly chuckled. "Well, almost friendly. We all had different reasons but the same goal; to become as powerful as we could. Using chi in every day life is like breathing."

"I hope you don't me saying so," Khri replied, "but your mastery of chi has had results you may not be aware of. Stories about powerful chi users protecting this planet have reached far across the galaxy. Most are more than happy to leave Earth alone or approach it on friendly terms, but there are others who see it as a test . . . " She trailed off and looked into the sky.

"Yeah, we know," Gohan snorted, casting a sideways glance at his daughter. Pan was currently polishing off the last bits of popcorn at the bottom of her butter-soaked box. "It's been a double-edged sword, with Earth suffering most of the damage. I think that was one of the arguments Piccolo used to convince Vegeta to try things his way."

Khri watched as the team in the coral gi's from the carnival threw the last of their opponents out of the ring. "Does this mean they're really going to try to win this tournament without using chi?"

"Yeah!" Gohan winced. "Goten was so mad he nearly ripped the roof off Mom and Dad's house, but Piccolo said it was another example of why he needed to learn more control. I think Goten and Trunks were planning on a surprise for the tournament and the decision not to use chi ruined it. Not being able to use all that power is going to be hard, but I agree with Piccolo on one thing . . . it should be challenging."

Videl and Eighteen returned, both loaded down with a fresh supply of hot dogs and other snacks. "Did I miss anything?" Videl panted, holding the box steady as she doled out orders while keeping one eye on the ring.

"Not really," Roshi grumbled. "Not one of these fighters even comes close to the level Goku reached when he was a boy. To make matters worse, that female fighter on Team Cheetah managed to keep her top on." He threw his hands up to fend off Bulma's knuckles when the loudspeakers crackled and announced the next match.

Teams were eliminated, points racked up and favored celebrity fighters were the highlight of an otherwise long afternoon. Ears had to be plugged as the girls rooting for the Golden Serpents screamed, shrieked and nearly fainted when their team won their match. Khri caught Gohan looking at his watch more than once and Roshi kept shaking his head in disgust. Two teams that were fan favorites – the Vipers and the Mantas – insisted on provoking each other verbally as well as physically, much to the joy of the spectators. Finally, the waiting paid off as the announcement of the last fight of the first rounds reverberated through the stadium.

"Team Red Dragon versus Team Twenty-Seven!"

Khri's cheers joined those of Gohan, Videl and the rest of her new friends as the two teams entered the ring. Goten and Trunks marched forward, hands balled into fists and heads lowered in determination. Piccolo's face was a scowl Khri didn't know how to interpret, but he had abandoned his weighted turban and cape. His smooth, green skin, his exposed antennae and his imposing size were powerful reminders that he was anything but human, sending a wave of worried murmurs through the stands. _He's not letting pride get in the way of using his appearance to intimidate the other team. He's also taking this seriously if he's discarded his training weights._ Vegeta, on the other hand, appeared relaxed and more than a bit smug. His short stature was a good contrast to Piccolo, and the Red Dragon team was having trouble hiding their apprehension. _Good,_ Khri nodded in silent approval as she worked on another ice cube. _They might understand just who they're about to fight. This could be interesting. _

"Just unbelievable," a silky voice behind her drawled. "Team Twenty-Seven? They can't come up with a better name than that? I can't believe they'd allow such a pathetic team to compete in this tournament!" The speaker paused for a long, dramatic sigh. "It's just too bad they couldn't have fought earlier when we were waiting in line for the restroom."

"I don't know about that, Mia." The second speaker's voice was high pitched and nasal. "It might be fun to see Torg take them apart . . . if they make it to the next round."

Mia sniffed. "Oh, please! Just look at them! A short guy with a bad haircut, a pretty rich boy, some dumb loser who probably got stuck on that team and a green monster are about to fight the Red Dragons!"

The ice cube shattered between Khri's grinding teeth.

"The rich guy is kinda cute, Mia. . . isn't he part owner of Capsule Corporation or something?"

"How should I know? I don't waste my time with losers and if he's on a team like that, he's definitely a loser."

Khri felt the temperature of the air around her drop several degrees. Her own jaw clenched and she noticed Bulma's back straighten. Bura and Marron exchanged glances, their faces turning red. Gohan and Videl exchanged looks of irritation and growing anger. Khri couldn't sense it but she was willing to bet the concentration of chi on their bench was increasing. She slurped another lemon-flavored chunk of ice from her paper cup and focused on the cold burn against her tongue as she looked down at the ring. The Red Dragons were recovering their composure and preparing to attack.

"Mamma, I'm going to take those girls apart!" Marron snapped, her clear eyes throwing sparks.

Eighteen's smile was cool but her eyes were blazing as she gave her daughter's shoulder a squeeze. "I know it's hard, but just ignore those worthless snobs. You should feel sorry for them." Her voice raised loud enough where Khri was certain the young women could hear. "Look at all the money they wasted on souvenirs for a losing team."

"Just make sure you remember what they said, girls," Bulma's voice rang. "That way you can rub their noses in it when our team turns theirs into golden smears in the ring."

The green-eyed woman erupted into laughter. "You really think that pathetic team of yours stands a chance of beating the champion Golden Serpents?" There were giggles from the girls surrounding her but they didn't sound convincing.

Khri's fingers itched to grab the _diacha_ concealed in her jacket. _This isn't my fight and I've got to keep from using blackfire!_ ChiChi suddenly shot up and whirled around to stare down at the young women. "Better enjoy those posters, girls, because after today your boyfriends' pretty faces are gonna be memories!"

The brunette gave her hair an imperious toss. "That's what you think, you old harpy!"

"Harpy!" ChiChi assumed a fighting stance and Pan squealed in excitement.

"Yay! Grandma's gonna fight!"

"Did you hear that, girls?" Mia's voice darkened with menace. "These old hags think those amateurs can beat our team!"

Bulma slowly got to her feet and stepped up and over the bleacher into Khri's row. Eighteen's eyes widened, Videl backed away and ChiChi growled in outrage as Bulma's face turned bright red. "Who do you think you're calling old hags, you little slut?"

Three girls stood up behind their ringleader. "You, you old bat! And where did you get those clothes, out of a nursing home dumpster?"

"Ladies, please!" Gohan interrupted, hands spread wide. "The real fight is in the ring! Let's just watch and see who wins!"

"Stay out of this, Gohan!" ChiChi snapped, shoving him backward. "I've listened to their garbage all afternoon and I'm not putting up with it anymore!"

Bulma started to take a step forward when Khri reached out and firmly gripped her shoulder. "Don't waste your anger on this vermin," she growled softly. "They're not worth your time." She was grateful the bright sunlight hid the faint glow of her eyes. "Just remember, you yourself said we already know how this will turn out!"

"You!" The nasal-voiced woman shrilled, pointing at Khri as color rose to her cheeks. "Mia, that's her! She's the one Skiff told you about! The one Torg hit on!"

Mia's glare shifted from ChiChi over to Khri. "So, you're the bitch!" she screeched, her face twisting in mindless fury. She spun away from ChiChi, shoved at her companions, and stomped on toes as she headed for Khri, hands tensed into claws. "You try to seduce my Torg and then go off with a big, ugly, green demon? How dare you!"

Warm, liquid anger flowed through Khri's veins as she released the emotion and let it collapse her shield. It was stronger than expected and curled seductively around the imagined possibilities of what she could do to the pathetic excuse for a female lunging toward her. _Black eye? Broken nose? Fat lip? All of the above? Aw, what the hell._ Her arm came up and her fist drove itself into Mia's pert, upturned nose. Khri felt cartilage break and a spray of of red blood streak her knuckles before the impact sent the girl spinning away. "My face!" Mia screamed through her hands as she fell backward. She tried to slow the blood trickling from her chin as two other girls scrambled to her side.

"I suggest you not lose the rest of it," Khri replied with a slow grin, revealing her sharp fangs. She'd pulled most of the punch, which was why Mia still had a nose. The heat of anger and satisfaction from petty revenge still flowed like lava through her blood, seeking further release. A loud shriek made her look up.

The rivalry had exploded into an all out brawl. ChiChi was busy ripping a handful of hair from one girl while Bulma blackened the eye of another. Gohan yelled at them to stop, arms wrapped tightly around Pan to keep her from throwing herself into the fight. Eighteen yawned, but she smiled when Marron's fist knocked the wind out of a short, plump girl that looked like an oversized bee in the yellow jersey. Master Roshi was watching the whole scene from the safety of his seat, but Khri couldn't figure out how he'd gotten a nosebleed. Most of the nearby spectators had scurried far enough away to avoid stray fists but stayed close enough to watch.

The two girls shrieked. "Look at her eyes!" one pointed at Khri, her face contorted in terror. "She's a demon too!"

_WHACK!_

Khri's left forearm went numb and her fingers tingled painfully. She caught the old woman's cane in her right hand and jerked it away. "Aiiieeeeee!" the crone wailed at the sight of Khri's fiery eyes. "Get away from me, you demon! Help!"

_Father, you're not going to like what I'm about to do, but I've had enough!_. She broke the cane in half on her own knee and tossed away the pieces. "One of us is a demon," she said softly, pulling herself up to her full height and glowering down at the creature, "but it's not me."

"EEEYAAAH!" the old woman screamed, scrabbling backward through the bleachers, hobbled by the loss of her cane. Khri let her go, ignoring her throbbing arm. The blow hadn't been hard enough to break bone, but she knew a nasty bruise was on the way.

"Guys, you need to knock it off!" Kuririn shouted, tugging on the back of his daughter's blouse. "I see security guards coming! And don't forget there are cameras . . . !"

Bulma's head snapped up and she released the ear she'd been pinching. "Cameras? Damn! I don't want to be filmed looking like this!" She ignored the sobbing girl at her feet and began brushing long, black hairs from her pink dress. "Just let me take care of this," she said, straightening her necklace as a handful of uniformed security guards thundered down the concrete steps.

After a lot of false tears, wailing, sniveling, questioning, sobbing, and a bit of name-dropping and bullying on Bulma's part, the security guards ushered the entire group of hysterical Golden Serpent girls out of the stands. The chief concluded that Khri had thrown the first punch in self defense, and one guard hinted that fights between rabid fans – especially girls – were becoming popular. They were more than happy to accept Bulma's side of the story as they led the blubbering and bleating girls away. Everyone, however, wanted to thrash the girls again when they realized they'd missed the entire fight.

Team Twenty-Seven had come out the winner, as expected, and in record time. Khri cheered along with everyone else as Trunks and Goten waved at them in triumph. Piccolo and Vegeta, however, knew something had happened while they were busy. Both frowned up at them as Bulma nervously brushed her hands through her hair and ChiChi searched for her shoe. Khri dropped her sore arm to her side and forced a smile when Piccolo's narrowed eyes locked on hers.

"He wants to know what happened," Gohan whispered as the Namek turned away and followed his teammates off the field. Mr. Satan took the stage, swiped the microphone from the announcer, and gleefully let everyone know that he'd be signing photographs during the intermission.

Khri gasped, having forgotten about Piccolo's telepathic link with Gohan. "What did you tell him?"

"Heh, not much. Just that we had an 'encounter' with some overenthusiastic fans and you'd tell him about it later."

"Humph. Thanks a lot."

Gohan sat down next to Khri on the bleachers. The rest of the ladies headed for the restrooms to clean up, but she didn't feel like fighting the crush of people. Kuririn and Roshi decided to pay yet another visit to the concessions stand, which left the two of them alone. The cuff of her jacket sleeve was speckled with drying blood, her black turtleneck was covered in dust and the clasp holding her hair back had broken. Her knuckles weren't worse for the wear, but her knee ached and her arm was painful to the touch.

"That old lady whacked you pretty hard," Gohan said. "How's the arm?"

Khri pushed up her sleeve and probed the area gently with her other hand. She could feel broken capillaries and damaged tendons, and the skin was already turning a dark umber. "No broken bones, just a lot of soreness and bruising." She could work on stimulating the healing later. "I'll be fine," she said, pulling her sleeve back down and tucking her messy hair behind her ear. Many spectators were making the most of the break by stocking up on hot dogs, snapping up overpriced souvenirs, hunting for a shorter restroom line, or waiting for their turn at Mr. Satan's autograph table. "Once Bulma, your mother, and Videl return, maybe I'll make a trip to the ladies' room when it won't be so crowded. I could use some tea or . . ."

Across the stadium, leaning against one of the cement supports, stood a tall man. He was in shadow but she could see he wore a black leather jacket, dark jeans and a high-necked shirt. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses that didn't conceal the fact he was staring at her..

_It can't be._

"Khri? You ok?"

The man turned away, then vanished behind the support pillar and reappeared on the other side in full sun.

_I would have known! I have to be mistaken! I've got to be seeing things!_

He was thinner and his face a bit paler than the last time she'd seen him. His thick, red hair was cropped short except for the long, thin plait that trailed down his shoulder.

_But what if I'm not? What if what I'm seeing is real? I'm too scared to hope!_

A strong hand gripped her shoulder. "Khri, what is it? What's wrong? You're as pale as a ghost and you're shaking! Do you want me to contact Piccolo?"

"No! No, don't! It's . . ."

The man lowered his head, reached up and pulled the sunglasses down his nose, revealing a pair of glowing amber eyes.

_It's Sai!_

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long! Real Life has a tendency to get in the way. HUGE Thank-You's go to my beta readers HollyBerry and LisaB for helping me get the knots out! 

PS: The old woman whacking on Khri was modeled after my Mother-In-Law. While she'd not that vicious physically, she's got a tongue that Chicago Cutlery wants to patent.

TiffyAngel, Rosiekins, ROGUEFURY, AceofAuthors, Dreamwraith: I can't thank you enough for all the kind words and encouragement in your reviews. They've made a HUGE difference in helping me find motivation, especially while struggling with Chapter 22. I'll never drop spoilers but I'll warn you, things are going to start getting bumpy so strap in, hang on and I hope you enjoy the ride!

Dreamwraith: There were so many elements to that chapter I just HAD to put in. The "peeking" scene was one of those things that cropped up one day and I had to use it. It worked too well. I'm very glad you enjoyed Piccolo's "destruction" of Cell! These chapters are the results of standing too long in a hot shower.

LenipenzSideshow and chikyu: The scene with the socks and wood floor was – you guessed it – inspired by Tom Cruise in "Risky Business." Of course, Khri was wearing more clothes at the time and wouldn't be caught dead playing an air guitar!

Chikyu: The infamous "POSTBOY" outfit would be over twenty years old at this point. IF ChiChi took it back after Piccolo wore it, I'm sure it was shipped off to charity long ago.

Selene13Immortal: I'm glad you're enjoying this saga, and have found it helpful in your own writing. As to that "kissing" thing . . . :whistles nonchalantly: You're just going to have to trust me!

Onyx: Thanks for reading "Everyone's A Winner." I had far too much fun writing that chapter, and could only justify its existence because I felt it WORKED. If you do decide to read "One Good Deed" and then "Errant Exile," the meaning will be a little deeper. Praise from you is high praise, indeed!

Now, hopefully I can get the next chapter out a little faster. . .


	23. Opening Bids

_From Chapter 22:_

_A strong hand gripped her shoulder. "Khri, what is it? What's wrong? You're as pale as a ghost and you're shaking! Do you want me to contact Piccolo?"_

"_No! No, don't! It's . . ."_

_The man lowered his head, reached up and pulled the sunglasses down his nose, revealing a pair of glowing amber eyes._

_It's Sai!_

* * *

"Errant Exile"

Chapter 23: "Opening Bids"

Gohan's grip on Khri's shoulder tightened. He followed her stare into the opposite stands. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes! But . . . no!" She clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. Her emotions rolled and pitched, battering her thoughts and reawakening the deep ache she wanted to forget.

Sai replaced his sunglasses and remained next to the pillar, waiting calmly. There had been no smile, no wave, no sign of welcome when he'd made eye contact. He'd always been a master when it came to controlling his facial expressions, but Khri couldn't ignore the cold knot in her stomach insisting something was wrong. "Gohan, I don't know. He looks just like Sai, but something doesn't feel right." She fought back the shock so she could think. "I know of only two species that can shape change. The first could never survive Earth's gravity and the second is microscopic!"

"Can you sense him? Like I can sense my brother, Piccolo, and others who use chi?"

Khri's eyes never left Sai's impassive face. "Under normal conditions, yes, but not if we don't keep our emotions in check. My control isn't very good right now, but we were a team for so long I should be able to sense something, even if he's intentionally suppressing his shield." She shook her head tightly. "I'm not feeling anything from him."

"Is it possible Sai could have made it to Earth?" Gohan asked, his voice hesitating. "I don't know all the details of what happened to your people, but could he have survived? Maybe he's been here all this time but had to stay in hiding, and only now thinks it's safe to contact you."

Sai – or the man that could have been his identical twin – nodded respectfully at a woman who'd accidentally bumped his arm. She whirled to glare at him for a moment over her thick glasses, then steadied her grip on a box of drinks and walked away. Sai casually looked around before resuming his quiet vigil, his face still expressionless. "I could believe he would wait until it was safe to contact me, but the odds of him surviving the destruction of the _Aughenai . . . _" Khri swallowed the threat of tears. "Sai had sworn to serve my replacement, Commander Ahtai, with the same loyalty he showed me. He loved the _Aughenai_ and would have fought to his death for her."

An unexpected thought poked painfully at her heart. _Would Sai have deserted if he felt I was personally in danger? He knows if I found out such a thing I'd kill him myself! There must be another reason!_ "I want to believe it's him, Gohan, but . . . wait! I've got an idea."

Khri tugged on her jacket collar. The gesture was one of a set of subtle signals they'd devised and used over the years. Rubbing one eye with the opposite hand, scratching the bridge of the nose, a sustained blink, all had meaning far greater than a simple movement. The collar tug was shorthand for "everything checks," and always required a quick response.

Sai continued to watch her but stood completely still. Lack of a response had never been a proper signal! Khri gritted her teeth. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm not going to find out what it is by sitting here." When Gohan gasped, she added, "give me until the end of intermission. That's more than twenty minutes. If I'm not back here by then, tell Piccolo. Tell him everything." Eyes never leaving Sai's emotionless face, she stood up. The distant figure responded by straightening his posture to a more attentive stance.

Gohan's voice hardened but remained concerned. "Khri, if something goes wrong, you know we can't track you using chi. This place is so crowded, it could take hours to find you . . . "

"I understand, Gohan, and I'm not being foolish." She checked her watch, then reached into her jacket and pulled the zippered pocket open. "Twenty minutes," she said, making sure her _diacha_ was loose in the pocket and ready if needed. "If I don't make it back, tell Piccolo to check the concessions stand where he first met Sai." She couldn't hold back a grim smile. "Tell him it hasn't changed in thirty years. He'll know the one."

Gohan edged closer. His dark eyes were full of compassion and worry beneath his frown. "Khri, for your sake I hope things turn out the way you want them to, but . . . " His voice trailed off, his face twisting through what looked like sadness, regret or both. He seemed to be struggling, holding back what he really wanted to say. "Be careful," he sighed at last.

Khri nodded at the heartfelt but unnecessary reminder. A quick glance up confirmed Sai was still there, waiting patiently. _It won't take twenty minutes to find out the truth,_ she promised herself as she walked through the empty bleachers toward the broad stairs. Possibilities ticked themselves off one by one with each step upward. _Is he being watched? What took him so long to make contact with me, especially since he had coordinates to my house?_ The lack of a response to her collar tug worried her more than his blank stare. She reached the top of the stairs and had to shoulder through lines of people waiting for snacks, souvenirs or the washrooms. A bump to her bruised arm sent a shockwave of pain up through her elbow and sparked a new theory. _Could it be he's been injured? That would explain why he looks paler and thinner than the last time I saw him!_

Sai's height made it easier to watch him move through the crowd. Always confident, Sai's gait always had a smooth motion that was deceptively casual and Khri knew the swing of his warrior's queue by heart. It didn't take long to realize his walk was awkward, the motion of his back and shoulders uneven. _That could mean he _is _injured,_ she thought, searching for signs of a limp. The longer she followed Sai and the thinner the crowd became, the more convinced she grew that Sai's injury was either very serious or she was trailing a fraud and walking into a trap. His movements were stiff and mechanical, reminding Khri of a sophisticated toy. She bit her lower lip, gratefully feeling her _diacha_ resting against her ribcage inside her jacket as she followed Sai through a set of heavy metal doors and down a flight of service stairs.

Cool air, free from the scents of overcooked hot dogs and stale beer, made Khri shiver underneath her jacket. Sai had led her to an empty service area for small vehicles where the floor was undergoing substantial repairs. A long swath of yellow caution tape laced back and forth between two thick pillars flanking the walkway. Piles of broken concrete, twisted steel rods and a locked cage of tools littered the floor and clustered around a large section of exposed pipe. Water seeped from a broken seam, forming a tiny river that snaked its way beneath a line of parked utility carts. Feeling more and more like a rodent being led into a cage, Khri eyed the shadows for unexpected company.

The distant drumbeat stopped. A quick glance at her watch confirmed her fears; she'd spent too much time following what _could_ be Sai. The pounding resumed at a faster pace as the band started their next number. Sai's wooden gait never slowed as he marched past the vehicles and headed for another set of doors.

Khri reached inside her jacket. _This has gone on long enough. Sai, if it is you, I'll try not to injure you further. I'm sorry. I know you'll forgive me._

Sai's reaction was too slow for an experienced warrior. He made no move to defend himself when Khri slammed him into the concrete door jamb from behind, spun him around and rammed the dark end of her _diacha_ into his neck below his chin. Her sore arm twinged painfully as she pinned him against the wall, but her gasp had nothing to do with her injury.

Fierce stings from thousands of invisible needles pricked her arms and chest, making it hard to breathe. What felt like a live current was painful to the point she had to fight her own instincts to not let him go. He didn't struggle, didn't try to escape. _In another moment he won't need to,_ Khri admitted, feeling a slow, numbing sensation leech through her arms and seep into her ribs and lungs. She strained to keep her grip on her _diacha_. "Who . . . who are you?" she gasped.

"Battle Commander, it is good to see you again! I do not wish you to experience pain, so would you please release me?" The voice wasn't Sai's. It was soft and controlled, underscored by a low burbling no Leonid vocal cords could make, and totally unaffected by her weapon jammed into its' throat.

Khri jerked her arms away and took a faltering step backward. Numbness vanished instantly and she hugged herself tightly, staring wild-eyed at the stranger wearing Sai's face. Disappointment stung only for a moment, swept aside by shock and recognition. She found herself unable to move as fear's ruthless grip squeezed her lungs and sapped the strength from her legs. _No! Not here, not now!_ Her head spun, trying to wring words from her broken thoughts until a memory crept out of the farthest, darkest corner of her mind. "Puh . . . Pym? Is . . . is that you?"

The man bowed stiffly, arms at his side. "Yes, Battle Commander. I extend formal condolences from my Emperor on your great loss." His eyes closed in a slow blink and the bow deepened.

She took a long, shaky breath. _Focus, dammit! Focus on the formalities and not your feelings, they're not important right now!_ A trembling hand slid her _diacha_ back into her pocket. "Pym . . . why are you here? And why do you look like Sai?" A new thought intruded with the force of a needed, hard slap. "How _are_ you here?" she asked in genuine surprise. "Pym, you're aquatic! You shouldn't be off Brioux!" How can you . . ."

The bland face twisted into an exaggerated expression of distress. "I am so sorry, Battle Commander, but before I can explain I must do this . . ." His hand reached for his belt where a small, red light flickered. Heart slamming against her breastbone, Khri took another step backward and braced herself against the concrete wall.

Pym's form blurred. Lines and colors bled into one another as his image ballooned to nearly twice Khri's height. The mass settled into shades of grey and lavender before snapping back into focus, revealing Pym's true shape.

A drop of cold sweat slid down Khri's cheek. _Great Kaio-Shin . . . they were horrors _in _the water and now they're out. . . gods help me . . ._

Pym's tentacles waved in deep distress. "I am so sorry, Battle Commander," he burbled, his voice slightly distorted by the elaborate, liquid-filled mask that covered his hideous face. "I had hoped to avoid shutting down the web, but it took longer to make contact with you than I had originally anticipated."

Curiosity nibbled at the edges of Khri's fear. "You . . . you perfected the camouflage web?" She managed to muster a weak smile to hide her shiver. "I knew you would . . . it was only a matter of time."

The huge Briaoux reared back in surprise. Several tentacles thrashed in excitement, leaving paths of thick slime. "It's far from perfect, Battle Commander! We are having difficulty coordinating the expression controls and the reliability of the motion mimicry module is only rated at eighty-two percent." A trio of smaller tentacles Brioux used as fingers gave the edge of his breather mask a quick rap. "My technicians have done a remarkable job in so little time, but this is still just a prototype and needs a great deal of improvement. I would not have turned off the web except it requires excessive amounts of power that cannot be immediately reclaimed." Pym slumped a bit, his excited waving less animated.

Khri stared up at the Brioux scientist she hadn't seen in over half an Earth century. She suddenly realized why Sai's image had looked so pale and thin; he'd been recovering from a nasty battle injury when they'd been diverted to Brioux. Images of a weakened Sai were the only ones they had on record as a reference. Pym's thick skin was coated with unnatural slime and his normally vibrant purple skin had faded to dark lavender. Planet Brioux was covered in water, letting its dominant sentient race glide through the depths with the grace of a dancer in zero gravity. Their horrific appearance masked a people that were gentle, brilliant, and had served as allies of the Leonids since their first meeting. _No! Don't think about that day! Now is not the time to remember!_ She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then noticed the thick belt strapped around Pym's middle below his mask. It supported a bulky power unit and a backup oxygenator. Tiny receptors and projectors had been positioned all over his body underneath the slime. "You have to conserve power," she said softly. "If you don't, then you won't have enough to get back to your ship. You'll die here."

Pym rolled his violet eyes, the Brioux equivalent of a blink. "I am glad you understand, Battle Commander. My Emperor instructed me that in no way was I to . . . to distress you . . . if it could be avoided."

Khri squeezed her eyes shut during the duration of another formal bow, feeling her heart pound against the flat of her palm. "I thank His Highness for his thoughtfulness, but I'm no longer a Battle Commander. Please just call me Khri or, if you prefer a formal title, _Dorhanhai._" The realization that Pym, a very conservative creature even among his own people, had undertaken an incredibly risky action just to speak with her, prompted another question. "Whatever possessed you to come to Earth must be important," she said quietly.

"Indeed it is, _Dorhanhai._ We had no way of reaching you with a secure transmission, and we could not find a courier our Emperor felt trustworthy enough to deliver the message we needed to send. We have a small fleet of reliable ships now, so it was decided I would use the prototype web and bring the message personally." Pym's tentacles began twitching, an action Khri knew meant he was nervous. "Once we had located you, we were reluctant to approach. We were uncertain if the large green man who lives on your roof was a threat, and we didn't have time for a thorough surveillance."

It was Khri's turn to be startled. "What? You've been to my home? How were you able to locate me with such accuracy?"

Pym appeared to shrink. His skin grew even more grey and he stilled. "_Dorhanhai_, that is one of the reasons I am here. I came to warn you . . . you've been implanted with a Paracelsus tracker."

The fast, rhythmic pounding of an amplified bass drum vibrated through the floor but Khri couldn't hear it. Blood drained from her face and rushed through her ears, beating its own frantic rhythm. "A . . . Paracelsus tracker?" She reached backward, digging her fingers into the wall for support as her knees weakened. "No . . . how? When?"

"We cannot be certain. While our source was questionable the information was not." One tentacle swept a small device from his belt and extended it to her. Khri's shaky hand closed around the sensor, not feeling the slime that dripped through her fingers as she stared at the blinking light on the tiny screen. She couldn't read Brioux but in this case she didn't need to. _When! When did they get the chance to implant me and who was the traitor?_ "Who else is tracking me, Pym?"

His soft voice lowered further. "When I left Brioux, it was known that at least two competing parties possessed the tracker's signal key, but since we obtained it there are undoubtedly more." A flutter of bubbles fizzed inside Pym's mask as he sighed. "Now that you are no longer protected by the Triumvirate and the Leonid fleet, your enemies are eagerly offering large sums of money for your capture. There are several . . . er . . . 'customers' currently engaged in a bidding war started by the survivors of the Zanova Imperiorship."

Khri scowled up at Pym. "How much?"

"Ten million standard credits. Before I left Brioux the bid had been raised to twenty-three million credits by the Circle of Shenta."

"The Shenta!" Khri snarled, stepping away from the wall. "Surveillance told me we'd completely eradicated those parasites! Dammit!" She raked her fingers back through her bangs. "Don't those idiots realize they could buy two, possibly three planets for that price?" She shook her head slowly, glaring at the floor. "What a waste."

"Please, honored _Dorhanhai_, there is more," Pym said, nearly wrapping a tentacle around her arm before he remembered his manners. "The fact that you're on the same planet with Son Goku, Prince Vegeta and the most powerful chi users in the galaxy has been a deterrent, but the prize has grown too large to resist any longer." His desperate tone grew strained. "My Emperor wished to offer you safe passage to Brioux but decided you are far safer here. I was glad to see you seated with Son Gohan, and I am relieved to know my Emperor decided wisely."

Khri handed the sensor back to Pym without shuddering. "I should have anticipated this," she muttered, crossing her arms tightly, "but I was too busy indulging myself with misery and self-pity to think clearly. All those remnants of Freeza's empire are looking for quick and dirty ways to build their own dictatorships, and are more than ready to give former slaves new masters. Twenty-three million standard credits buys instant power."

"I'm sure it's up to thirty million by now, _Dorhanhai,_ if not more"

The heavy beat quickened again as the band launched into another deafening number. Khri knew there couldn't be many songs left to their performance and Gohan was probably getting more anxious by the moment. "Pym, I have so many questions but I really only need the answer to one . . ." The room brightened as a long forgotten anger kindled and her eyes flared. "Is one of the bounty hunters Traeger?"

The Brioux wilted like a cut flower in the sun. He didn't have to be humanoid for Khri to see his version of a slow nod. "Yes. Due to his . . . history . . . he is the one expected to have the greatest chance of success."

_Traeger._ The name sizzled its way through Khri's brain and poured liquid heat into her veins. "That miserable son of a bitch should have been put down long ago, but the Triumvirate refused to take action!" She paced back and forth in fury, barely aware that the Brioux had slithered backward a few feet. "I had the perfect chance to kill him but the Triumvirate debated away the opportunity! Dammit, I _knew_ I should have defied them and let Eldest clean up the mess!"

Pym's faded complexion looked even more sickly in the yellow light. "The Mittri say they are prepared to pay dearly, but they refuse to deal with Traeger," he offered, retreating just a bit further at the sight of her fangs. "We . . . we do not know if they have reached an agreement with other hunters."

Khri snorted, forcing back her visible anger when she noticed Pym's fright. "The Mittri have a real reason to want my head, but they've got the sense to know Traeger is unstable. Unfortunately, you don't have to be stable to be a genius."

The backbeat went silent and was followed by cheers. The announcer's voice, loud and garbled, cut through the applause. Khri bit back a curse; intermission was over and she was far from her seat. "Pym, if there's anything else I should know you'd better tell me now. Remember that green man you saw on my roof? He's a friend and he's about to come looking for me. I don't know how I'm going to explain what you've told me to Piccolo, and I don't think you want to be present when I do." She gave the door a sideways glance, half expecting to see a very large, very irritated Namek smash through it.

Tentacles curled around a red dial on Pym's breather mask. "I'm sorry to have brought you such ill news, _Dorhanhai_, but my Emperor . . . my people . . . desperately wished to warn you of what it is you face. We all regret we are unable to offer assistance, but I'm sure the knowledge you are well protected will help to ease their worry."

Khri took a deep breath and pressed her palm against her breastbone. "Give your Emperor and your people my greatest thanks, Pym," she said with a bow. "Now get back to your ship while you still can!"

The air around Pym shimmered and his image went out of focus. Khri held her breath as she watched the hulking mass shrink, contract and reform into the shape he'd "borrowed" for his duration on Earth. She found herself looking into the face that belonged to a friend, into glowing eyes that should have sparkled with humor and life. On Pym, Sai's face had all the expression of a carefully crafted mask. "Farewell, _Dorhanhai_ . . . Khri," he replied, bending with the stiffness of a mechanical puppet. "May Kaio-Sama guard you." He turned away, his whipcord-thin warrior's queue swaying with each step until he disappeared into the shadows.

The booming voice of Mr. Satan broke through Khri's lapse into painful memory and heartache. _Dammit, how could I think of such a stupid, shortsighted plan,_ she cursed, glancing down at her watch. Piccolo was probably searching for her, and very likely growing more irritated every minute he didn't find her. _I need a plan, a better plan, and I need it fast!_

Thinking, however, wasn't easy. Recent events had raised hopes and crushed them again, using weapons of old nightmares and new dread. On top of it all sat anger.. Anger at being led to believe Sai still lived, at Pym for deceiving her, and how easily she fell prey to old terror. Fury was a good weapon against those fears, but it would have to be set aside in order to give Piccolo what he needed to locate her. _It's pathetic,_ she admitted as she concentrated harder, trying to strengthen the shield and plug the holes. _Still, if Piccolo is looking for me and he isn't too angry, he should be able to sense it. _She laughed darkly at her next thought. _Then he'll get a barrier headache and have an even bigger excuse to be furious!_

Emotional ripples soothed and a ragged shield in place, Khri concentrated on the memories of her first visit to the stadium. The place had been a labyrinth thirty years ago and subsequent expansions and improvements had just added to the maze. Had they changed the location of the warm-up rooms and exercise areas? If they were still in the same place, she was actually closer to meeting up with Piccolo than returning to Gohan. Feeling less uncertain now that she had made a decision, Khri felt the rents in her shielding close as she pushed open the metal doors.

The lighting in the stairwell was dim as she hurried down the steps. She passed two men in light blue uniforms who were so absorbed in a whispered conversation they took no notice of her. The stairs ended in another set of closed double doors. Khri peered through the reinforced glass, found the hallway beyond empty, and quietly slipped inside. The loud click of the latch echoed down the corridor and faded into the background of distant voices.

The paint was still fresh enough to leave a faint smell and new tile glistened on the floor, but Khri recognized this particular hall. It was part of the original stadium complex and had been on the map Surveillance had provided her scout team. It passed through a series of large storage rooms and freight elevators used to keep the small food stands and the exclusive restaurants on the highest floors well stocked. She didn't hesitate when two workers turned a corner, pushing and pulling on a cart piled high with boxes.

The smaller man pushing reached out to push the sliding top box back to a safer spot. "Are you sure this is the last of them?"

"It is unless that truck gets here!" The taller worker nodded a greeting at Khri, which she returned without slowing. They whipped the cart into an open elevator, nearly upsetting the entire load. "There's gonna be a lot of angry fans if there's no more hot dogs . . ." his voice cut off as the elevator doors snapped shut.

Khri picked up her pace, ignoring the urge to glance through other open doors. Her confusion grew with each step; there had been no pressure against her fully restored and hole-free shield. _Where is Piccolo? Is Gohan giving me more time,_ she wondered, _or is Piccolo's team on the field and Gohan doesn't want to distract him?_ She pushed her concerns aside and tightened her focus on her shield, feeding it power in case her newest assumption was wrong. _If Gohan is giving me time, I'm not going to waste it._ She broke into a light run down the empty corridor, paused when it ended at an intersection and took the left hallway. The sounds of the crowd were louder now and the scent of cleaner air cut through the smell of new paint. She reached hall leading to what she hoped were still the practice rooms and nearly ran into a lone janitor pushing a squeaky cart loaded with discarded cups and hot dog wrappers. She reached out to steady his cart, gave him a quick apology and turned the next corner. The noise from the cart receded, the squeal fading into a low hiss.

Khri inhaled sharply and froze. She listened as the hiss raised and lowered in volume, finally resolving into speech too low to be understood. It streamed from a darkened room off to the right. She took a few cautious steps forward, trying to keep silent. _This day just keeps getting worse_ . . .

". . . without leadership! You, of all Lord Freeza's men, are legendary. Rumorsss of your brave defianssse, your great power have reached the furthessst cornersss of the Empire," the sibilant voice insisted. "Leadersss of your brillianssse are few and far between, and now would be the perfect time to show your ssstrength."

The words weren't directed at her, but Khri could feel their hypnotic effect. Ohlindi were physically repugnant to humanoid species; their serpentine tongues and cold eyes combined with their worm-like skin made seasoned officers shudder, but they weren't hired for their appearance. Their voices masked an inaudible tone that calmed and seduced the listener. _Honey laced with poison_, was how her father described the Ohlindi's powers of persuasion. They were often hired by mercenaries to "negotiate" contracts and "persuade" rulers to surrender without a fight, but trusting them earned you a knife in the back or worse. Their rarity kept their value high, letting their employers use them against any species that didn't know about their devious skills.

"Think of it!" the Ohlindi hissed, weaving notes of longing and desire into his speech. "A share of thirty ssseven million creditsss and a planet of your own to rule!" Humility added a third note. "Traeger is most generousss. He hasss no wishesss to rule the entire galaxy, merely a sssmall corner of it." The fourth note was the tease. "He alssso has accesss to great knowledge. He hasss heard rumorsss of other Sssaiyans who survived Lord Freesssa . . . he would be mossst willing to asssist you in locating them." It paused, letting the sweet notes twist together into one powerful chord. "All of it, in exchange for a Leonid. What do you sssay, _King_ Vegeta?"

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

AN: Sorry about such a long wait; the house is nearly finished! HUGE thank-yous to all my patient readers and reviewers; without you, this chapter (which was a big struggle for some reason) would have taken even longer. It seems short to me, but the next chapter, "Deal with a Devil," shouldn't take so long. Piccolo didn't get face time here but that is going to change, and soon! 


	24. Deal with a Devil

_From Chapter 23: _

"_Think of it!" the Ohlindi hissed, weaving notes of longing and desire into his speech. "A share of thirty ssseven million creditsss and a planet of your own to rule!" Humility added a third note. "Traeger is most generousss. He hasss no wishesss to rule the entire galaxy, merely a sssmall corner of it." The fourth note was the tease. "He alssso has accesss to great knowledge. He hasss heard rumorsss of other Sssaiyans who survived Lord Freesssa . . . he would be mossst willing to asssist you in locating them." It paused, letting the sweet notes twist together into one powerful chord. "All of it, in exchange for a Leonid. What do you sssay, King Vegeta?"_

* * *

Chapter 24: Deal with a Devil

Khri pressed her shoulders against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. Her sunglasses, tucked in a pocket of her jacket, only worked outside and wouldn't hide the heated glow of her eyes in the dim hallway. She kept her breathing shallow and strained to catch the Saiyan's reply.

"That's quite an offer," Vegeta said in a voice of frost and oil. "All that, just for a weak female? What proof do you have that this upstart Traeger can keep his part of the bargain?"

Heavy fabric rustled. "I have thisss." There was the soft click of a latch and faint creak of a hinged lid being lifted. "Do you recognissse it?"

"Of course I do!" There was no mistaking the disgust in Vegeta's growl. "It's the Fifth Eye of Adan. Freeza took heavy losses in both ships and soldiers in the battle for that gem. The last time I saw it, it was in a salon on Planet Deek, being used as a doorstop."

Khri barely kept her eyes from flying open in shock. _The Fifth Eye of Adan? I . . . I knew the price was high, but this . . . ! If Traeger controls the vaults on Deek and is flooding the market with treasure, then the value of the Eye could be far less than what it used to be. But does Vegeta know that?_ She clenched her jaw and leaned closer.

"Thisss is only the ssstart of what he hasss to offer," the Ohlindi asserted. "Traeger alwaysss deliversss on his promisssesss. It is how he differsss from Freesssa . . . he rewardsss sssuccesss well."

The snap of a lid shutting echoed down the hall. "Oh? And how does he treat those who fail?"

The Ohlindi drew in a sharp breath. "F . . . failure? I would not know! I have never failed Lord Traeger! I . . . I am his willing ssservant!" Some of the honey in his shaking voice had trickled out.

_Is that what he's calling himself these days, 'Lord' Traeger?_ Khri bared her fangs, digging her fingers into the wall at her back. _Traitor, deceiver . . . his titles are more damningly true than mine! _

"I'm sure you are," came the sneering response. "After all, you've done your master's bidding. You've promised me everything an ignorant bystander thinks I could ever want."

"Lord Traeger wishesss me to assure you if there'sss anything he'sss forgotten, anything elssse you desire, he promisssesss that you shall have it." A note of sweetness swirled into the Ohlindi's offer. "If thisss world pleasssesss you, Lord Traeger saysss it is yoursss, no questionsss asssked, to be added to your richesss. Fine winesss, luxuriesss, and the most beautiful slavesss could be brought here for your pleasssure . . . "

"Except for the female Leonid, of course?"

Khri stepped away from the wall and opened her eyes. Cold fury, refusing to be overruled by logics' demands to be cautious, propelled her into the doorway.

Fluorescent lights buzzed softly in a large storage room. Discarded boxes had been piled against the far left wall but some lay strewn across the floor on a carpet of paper napkins. Brushed steel refrigerator doors lined the back of the store room, their compressors emitting a steady hum.

Standing in the center and leaning casually against a chest freezer waited Vegeta, his white gloves and boots gleaming in stark contrast with his dark body suit. Arms folded, he threw her an unpleasant grin over the head of a misshapen creature slouched in front of him. "I was wondering when you'd decide to join us, Leonid."

The Ohlindi let out a high-pitched hiss and spun around. Glassy eyes spun in terror beneath a floppy hat. Its forked tongue flicked in and out as it took two steps backward. The long coat it used as a disguise tangled around its thick legs, slowing its retreat. "Nooo! Get away!" Its blunt snout swiveled towards Vegeta, clawed three-fingered hands held out in appeal . "Pleassse . . . Your Highnesss, don't let her touch me! Ssstop her, I beg you!"

Vegeta calmly moved aside and leaned against a refrigerator door, a small box in one hand. "Begging?" He cocked his head at the Ohlindi and folded his arms. "Out of things to barter with already?"

Khri stared down at the whimpering Ohlindi. It wheezed, its scramble backward slowed by empty boxes and torn cardboard. She ducked her head politely at Vegeta without looking away. "Your Highness, are you finished with this?"

"Find out what you need to and then kill it. I want to watch but I don't have all day."

"Nooooo!" squealed the Ohlindi. "Massster . . . pleassse . . . help me!"

Khri finally spared a glance at Vegeta. "My business with the Ohlindi is none of your concern, Your Highness."

"But it is." His indolent pose didn't alter but there was a hard edge to his tone. "This creature is on Earth, which is _my_ territory. Your business _is_ my business, Leonid, whether you like it or not."

_Who knew rudeness, pride and arrogance could co-exist in such a small package?_ Khri shrugged off the insult; he did, after all, have a point. If Traeger had managed to crack Freeza's most prized vault, then he had the finances to buy all the power he wanted. _And he wants Vegeta's muscle._ What other bribes had the Ohlindi offered before she'd started eavesdropping? She'd heard no acceptance, but . . . _perhaps I'd better make sure there's no way he can accept. At least not today._

Khri lunged forward. Her left hand dug into the Ohlindi's thick neck, burrowing into its scales. She slammed it back against the freezer doors, pinning it high so its eyes were level with her own. Its sleek skin was cold and moist, its green tongue flicking wildly as it clawed at her wrist, drawing blood. "Re . . . releassse me, I beg you! I . . . I'll say you weren't here, I ssswear . . . "

"Where is Traeger?" she asked softly.

"I . . . I don't know!" The next words were so garbled in its struggle to speak that Khri relaxed her fingers. It took a gulp of air, renewed its fight and was rewarded with an even tighter grip on its windpipe than before. "Traeger is . . . on Deek, waiting to hear . . . from Vegeta . . . "

Khri's fingers flexed, her voice a calm whisper. "Last chance. Where is Traeger?"

The room echoed with Vegeta's soft laugh. "Your questioning techniques are pathetic, Leonid. Kill it and be done. You're wasting my time."

Khri allowed the creature a few desperate breaths, turning her glowing, slitted eyes on Vegeta. "Your Highness, are you familiar with the Ohlindi race? Do you know why they're such a unique species?"

"They're filth. Freeza found them useful, but he knew of their deceitful nature and never trusted them. We Saiyans never had to resort to such base, repugnant creatures."

Khri raised one thin brow. "They may be deceitful, but they have a physical trait that sets them apart from other species." Her right hand reached underneath the Ohlindi's baggy coat and grasped its side. "They have four hearts."

The Ohlindi squirmed frantically. "No! No!" It suddenly stiffened, then howled in agony.

Moisture on the creature's skin glistened in Khri's eye light. "If one heart is destroyed the other three can take up the slack, which is most fortunate since they can't regenerate their organs." The Ohlindi had wilted, its breath coming in shallow pants. She turned her attention from the lump of flesh that had been its lowest heart and rested her hand over the one above it. "However, if a second heart is badly damaged or destroyed . . . "

"He'sss on the _Limita_!" The Ohlindi rasped. "Outssside . . . thisss system, on the other ssside . . . of the ssstar . . ."

Khri could feel the heart race beneath skin and clothing. "At the time you left the _Limita_, who was the highest bidder?"

"The . . . The Mhedwa!"

She didn't move or relax her grip, hiding any sign of surprise. The Mhedwa actually bore her a legitimate grudge. Their home world, ravaged by an incurable virus, had been quarantined to keep it from spreading to nearby systems. The _Aughenai_ had enforced a blockade that kept their ships grounded, but many desperate Mhedwa chose to die trying to outrun her rather than wait for the inevitable. Khri had personally ordered the destruction of ships loaded with fathers, mothers and their tiny, fragile offspring. The deaths of millions had saved the lives of billions, including the single Mhedwa colony world. Over the years their meager population had exploded, fueled by the hunger for revenge. Khri wondered where the Mhedwa had found the funds to make such a high bid that was credible, then decided she didn't want to know. It didn't matter. If Traeger felt their credits were good then he was probably right.

The Ohlindi shuddered when Khri fumbled through its baggy Earth clothing. The coat had several pockets which Khri emptied, tossing empty candy bar wrappers, bits of brightly-colored foil, a handful of peanuts and a few feathers on the floor. In the last pocket she found it; a small, oval device that reminded her of the Dragonball-finding sensor Bulma had shown her during the Capsule tour. A tiny red light held steady in the center of the cross hairs. Somewhere beneath her skin the Paracelsus tracker was doing its job for the benefit of anyone with the right codes. She crushed the tracer, the display shattering into white sparks and bits of plastic that peppered the floor. The pain was well worth the enjoyment of destroying the treacherous little machine.

"Are you going to stop playing with that creature and kill it, or should I finish the job?"

Khri shrugged off the remark, glared steadily at the Ohlindi and forced herself to concentrate. Its second shriek was more frenzied than the first, but the creature didn't die. She released it and it slid down the refrigerator doors, collapsing into a raggedly hissing heap. It crept towards the chest freezer and pulled itself up. Every step was a struggle, each breath an agonizing gasp as it dragged itself across the room and out the door.

"Why didn't you kill it?" Vegeta snarled, fists tightened and eyes glinting in anger.

"What makes you think I haven't?" She nodded towards the empty doorway. "I didn't destroy the second heart; I merely gave it what humans would call a moderate heart attack. The Ohlindi will suffer the rest of its' duplicitous life . . . however short it might be."

There was a long silence before Vegeta spoke. "You think it will return to Traeger's ship?"

"I'm betting on it." Khri picked up a wrinkled paper napkin and wiped the blood from her wrist. The claw marks were shallow and wouldn't bleed long. "He's got a few hours to craft a story and plead his case before he reaches the _Limita_, but even if he manages to convince Traeger you accepted his offer, he's dead. Traeger will get my message and then kill him. Slowly." She scrubbed at her hands with the napkin, trying to scrape off the feel of Ohlindi skin. "In letting him live, I was not merciful."

"It didn't deserve mercy," Vegeta replied. "Killing it would have done the job, but your way is . . . interesting." His voice was a mix of humor and grudging respect. "You're ruthless. You might just be who you say you are."

Khri blinked in surprise. "After everything the Ohlindi offered you, you still have doubts?"

Vegeta looked down at the small box in his hand and opened the lid. Bits of blue light scattered across his chest and face, flashing from side to side as he picked up the Fifth Eye of Adan. Khri's eyes widened at the sight of the gemstone, its heart of azure fire spilling light from between his fingers. _The fables were true. It's absolutely gorgeous, but is it still worth the blood so many spilled for it?_

"Not long ago, this stone was Freeza's greatest obsession." Vegeta's voice grew distant as he studied the Eye. "After he tore the head from the Adanesse princess and stole her necklace, he refused to let it out of his sight for weeks. His obsession with it lasted a bit longer than I expected, but he eventually tired of it. It wound up in the same graveyard Freeza sent all his discarded toys. This one, however, managed to survive in one piece." His eyes reflected the blue sparks from the turning stone. "This trinket could buy worlds. It could also be worth less than the Ohlindi's lies."

Khri folded her arms, still clenching the blood-smeared napkin. "I noticed you didn't accept it's offer."

"I didn't decline it, either." He tossed the empty box onto a pile of trash and tugged off one of his gloves, slipping the gem inside. "If you're really one of the last of your race, you're a rare commodity. You could be sold as an exhibit to a private collector. Maybe you do have enemies who'd like to punish you in their own way, but the real profit could be in your genetics." His grin held no sign of humor, only insult. "Then again, you are female, and an exotic one. That presents a completely different and very lucrative market possibility."

Khri saw him smirk in satisfaction at the intensified glow from her eyes. _I've got more to lose by responding to his insults than if I just let him talk,_ she told herself harshly. It seemed, however, Vegeta was growing bored. "You're definitely not like Bulma," he muttered. "That woman couldn't hold her tongue if she wanted to. Heh. Maybe that's why the Namek spends so much time with you."

He appeared ready to ask a nosy question when he was interrupted by a sudden rush of footsteps. Goten hurtled past the door without glancing their way. Trunks, however, came to a screeching halt with the help of the door frame. "Hey, there you are! Dad, we were about to go looking for you, too!" He leaned out and yelled, "Hey, Goten! Back here! I've found him!" When he turned back he gasped in surprise. "Khri! I'm glad Dad found you! What happened? Was that your friend you saw? Why are you down here?" He frowned slightly and looked back and forth between his father and Khri. "Is everything ok here . . . and Dad, why were you suppressing your chi?"

Khri casually slid the blood-covered napkin into her pocket. "Everything is fine, Trunks! I'll explain, but I . . . "

Goten skidded into the room. "Khri! Piccolo is looking for you! Trunks, have you signaled him yet?"

He shook his head. "Not yet, but I will right now!"

Khri gasped. "No, Trunks, wait . . .!"

The air rippled with an unseen charge. It fluttered through Trunks' hair and sent the carpet of paper napkins swirling up like a flock of frightened birds. Before they could start drifting back to the floor, the space between Trunks and Goten shimmered and brightened.

Piccolo spun around, his cloak snapping behind him as his sharp eyes locked on Trunks. The young man smiled weakly and stammered, "we just found Khri, and Dad, too! I signaled as soon as we did!"

Khri felt her stomach drop as Piccolo's eyes met hers. The large room suddenly felt much smaller as he shouldered past the boys and towered over her. He looked angry, but she reminded herself that Piccolo usually masked his deeper feelings with anger. "I'm all right," she said softly, hoping the confession would ease the shadows around his eyes and soothe the vein pulsing in his neck.

"Gohan thought otherwise," he growled through clenched teeth. "You knew you could have been chasing trouble and you went anyway. Dammit, Khri . . . !"

Her emotions, already teetering like an unbalanced sword, swung wildly between feeling insulted, relief and dread. He'd been worried and the discomfort was making him angry, but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her for causing it or himself for feeling it. _Too much is happening too fast . . . I need time to think about this, but I owe him some kind of explanation!_

"I thought I saw someone I knew in the crowd." Goten and Trunks watched her expectantly and there was more curiosity than irritation in Vegeta's predatory gaze. "I had to find out, even though I knew it could have been a trap." The memory of Sai's face stirred the well of grief she'd worked hard to ignore. She looked at the far wall and blinked hard. "I was mistaken."

The room was silent except for the hum of the refrigerators and soft scuff of Goten's shoe scuffing the floor. Piccolo sighed and Khri could hear most of his anger leave with it. "I'm . . . sorry it wasn't Sai."

Khri almost smiled at the reluctance in his voice. "I was too." Seeing Sai's face again after so long had been such a shock, and then learning it had been nothing more than a disguise used by Pym . . . an ugly, dark tendril snaked out of her memory. It slithered up her back, leaving an invisible trail of cold, wet slime. _No, not now!_ She shivered, earning another worried frown from Piccolo. "By the time I found out I was mistaken, the intermission was nearly over. I knew I'd never make it back to the stands before Gohan warned you. I was closer to the warm-up rooms and thought coming here first would be the better choice."

Piccolo's reply was interrupted by a snort from Vegeta. "Now that this little search party is over we can get back to more important things, like beating the hell out of a bunch of weaklings without using chi." He marched through the litter towards the door, then paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Are you coming, Namek, or should we just forfeit and forego this embarrassing nonsense?"

"It's not nonsense to us!" Goten shot back. "I've been working hard on restraint and control and so has Trunks. If we can win this without using chi, we can still compete in future tournaments without having to worry about attracting too much attention!"

Trunks grinned. "Besides, Mom won't be happy if she's waited an entire afternoon for a fight that never happens."

Vegeta barely managed to hide his wince behind a scowl. "Then let's get this over with." He stood aside until Goten and his son left the room, then jerked his chin at Piccolo. "Hurry up."

Piccolo nodded curtly. He waited long enough to be sure Vegeta was out of earshot before turning back to Khri. "What happened?"

Folding her arms again to hide her trembling hands, she stared past him at the distant wall. "I told you, I was mistaken. I thought I saw Sai and I was wrong."

"That's not the whole story! I've never seen you like this!" His voice rising, Piccolo moved closer, startling her and making her look up at him. "You're pale and you're shaking." His eye ridges knitted in momentary concentration, then he hissed in pain. "And that thing you use as a shield is a mess! What the hell happened?"

Khri used her irritation at his demanding attitude to push back the writhing ghosts of old fears. _I wish I could tell you . . . but I don't want to go where it leads. I can't go back there!_ She swallowed hard and tried her coldest tone; it came out shivering rather than steely. "It's a story that will have to wait, Piccolo. Your team needs you! You may not care about this tournament but Goten and Trunks do." A deep breath was no help at all. "Please tell Gohan that I'm all right, and I'm on my way back to the stands. I'll meet you once this is over." She managed a tight smile before turning away.

Piccolo's hand caught her uninjured wrist and he tried to pull her back. "Khri, dammit, you need to . . ."

Skin prickling from the contact, Khri tore her arm from his grip. He stared at her in shock, empty hand outstretched, as she danced several steps backward. Her battle stance was shaky and her footing awkward, but there was no doubting her defensive posture. White mantle glowing gold in the heated light from her eyes, Piccolo eased into a non-threatening position. "Khri. I'm not going to hurt you," he coaxed. "You're not in danger here. You can stand down."

_How . . . how much did he sense? What does he know?_ Khri stood in the eye of an uncontrolled storm of emotion, trapped as well as isolated. Nameks were sensitive to the driving force that powered chi, and with no blackfire shield to mask old terrors, the odds were good Piccolo felt a bit of what had stripped it away. _I've worked too hard, too long at fighting this and I won't let it beat me now,_ she shouted at the slick, twining tentacles coiling out of her clouded memories, intent on pulling her down. She took a few gulps of air, bunched her hands into fists and slowly relaxed to a parade stance.

Piccolo retreated another step, giving her plenty of room. "Khri?"

Waves of shame forced a deep blush into her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she whispered, face turned away. "You didn't deserve that. I . . . lost control, and I apologize." A warning tickle in the back of her throat meant tears were on their way if she didn't act fast. "I need to go now," she whispered hoarsely as she turned and nearly ran for the door. She halted in the frame without looking back. "You . . . you should find a different spot other than my roof for meditating tonight." She vanished, leaving Piccolo standing alone in a fluttering, knee-deep sea of paper that slowly drifted to the floor.

_To Be Continued . . . _

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AN: My brain had a struggle with "it's" and "its'" and "sss" in this chapter until I nearly drove myself crazy. Hopefully Chapter 25, "Bent," won't be so long in writing.

Huge thank-you's to all my wonderful reviewers. You guys provide much-needed steam that gets each chapter rolling!


	25. Bent

Errant Exile

Chapter 25: _"Bent"_

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_It's true what they say,_ Piccolo sighed to himself. _It never just rains. It really does pour._

Warm droplets pattered his bare head and shoulders, pooled between his chest and crossed arms, then dripped steadily from his ears and antennae. Water cascading down the peaked roof of Khri's house treated him like a stubborn rock resisting a river's current. The heavy rain felt good against his skin, and he'd indulged himself by shedding his heavy cloak and turban. He could see the next flash of lightning through his closed eyelids and felt the resulting thunder in the vibrating roof tiles. Dawn was still hours away. _Could've fooled me,_ he snorted, unfolding his legs for a stretch. His soaked gi stuck to his skin and his shoes felt like sponges. _It's been a long night already._

The tournament had been an exercise in patience instead of fighting. Piccolo's faint hope that his team's practice of not using chi would have leveled the playing field was crushed in the first round. Vegeta had entertained himself by seeing how few moves he could make before destroying his opponent and the boys followed his lead. Trunks and Goten left the stadium carrying the huge trophy between them, grinning madly at the young women clinging to their free arms. Piccolo's own bouts were boring except for the final match: watching the leader of the Golden Serpent team writhe in agony had been a guilty pleasure. It was short-lived, though. He had other things on his mind.

After she'd ran from the storage room, Khri had returned to the stands. Gohan, forewarned by Piccolo of her strange behavior, tried to coax more information out of her but had no luck. Piccolo had caught a glimpse of her before their team began their fight. She was still pale, her face locked in an empty smile. His distracted glances caught Vegeta's attention, earning him a threatening scowl. Gohan and Trunks were dimly aware something had gone wrong, but nothing could dampen their spirits as they posed for photographs, trophy hoisted between them. The victory party at Capsule Corporation had run late into the evening but Khri had bowed out early, fleeing renewed expressions of sympathy at the loss of Sai. Piccolo followed her air car at a discreet distance, then waited in the forest until the last light had winked out. As soon as he'd taken up his usual perch on the roof, he was startled by a sudden light shining from the back of the house.

Evening darkened into deep night. The neat square of light on the ground, cut in the shape of Khri's bedroom window, winked back out. It returned a short time later, followed by the lights in the living room and the kitchen. He heard the distant clatter of the kettle in the sink, of running water. The moon, a thin silver grin hovering over the horizon, rose nearly overhead when the light in the kitchen went out. The parade of lights continued throughout the night. Shortly after midnight he felt the wind change and watched as a thick bank of clouds began swallowing the western stars. A distant rumble rolled across the waves.

Piccolo shook himself free of the recent memories and opened his eyes, surprised to see the living room light was still on. Either Khri had found what she'd been looking for or finally fell asleep, but there was another possibility. What if she knows I'm here and she's waiting for me to come in, he wondered. "Dammit," he swore under his breath, "this is stupid. Why am I wasting so much time trying to figure this out?" He stood up, ignoring the drag of his water-soaked gi. "She owes me an explanation for today, and now is as good a time as any." Fists clenched in determination, he marched to the edge of the roof.

The tiles beneath his feet shuddered in warning. The back of the house exploded outward in a blast of glass and plaster. Piccolo gasped and shot upward as the sofa from the living room flew across the yard, rolled a few times and came to a muddy stop. A gaping hole, lined with debris and the tattered wisps of a filmy curtain, stood where her patio doors had been. "Khri!" he roared as he landed. He wiped the rain dripping from his eye ridges with the back of his arm and tried to peer into the house.

All the lamps were out. Over in the corner a white light flickered: somehow the television had survived the blast. It lay turned on its side, the screen white with electrical snow and the speaker hissing static. Before sparks burst from the back and it winked out he got a glimpse of the wrecked living room. Overturned furniture was battered and broken, and large chunks of plaster and wood had been chewed out of the walls. The patio doors, torn from their hinges, lay like crumpled and torn pieces of paper across the lawn. Glass chimed as the steady rain drummed the largest shards out of their frames. During the next flash he scanned the floor but there was no sign of Khri. He called her name again, then picked his way through the debris and ducked into the house.

Piccolo stared at the wreckage, worry tightening his throat. The spewed rubble itself was the only sign of an explosion. Where was the smoke, the heat from numerous small fires that should be blazing? All thoughts of a possible accident vanished and he forced himself to think. He doubted the assailants could hurt him, but if they were still in the house and had subdued Khri, blindly rampaging through the house could put her in danger. Feeling for unknown chi, he found nothing but the bright sparks of birds and other wildlife nearby. _I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I hope I get a headache._ Piccolo stepped over a shattered lamp in the center of the living room, took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Finding the blank space created by Khri's shielding had been an ongoing challenge. It was elusive and required a lot of concentration to find, plus the raging headache the backlash caused wasn't an incentive. Frustration with trying to keep a visual fix on the damned strange woman drove him to practice finding her shield. It had turned into a cat-and-mouse game; he used opportunities when she was distracted to brush against her shield, quickly retreat and pretend the space behind his eyes didn't throb. The dark looks she threw him hinted she was onto his scheme but she'd said nothing. Over the passing months he'd gotten much better and, to his relief, the headaches grew less intense. It was a skill he suspected he'd need one day. That day, however, turned out to be a dark, stormy night.

Piccolo focused on the far end of the house first, the corner bedroom Khri slept in. Finding it empty he moved to the next room, waiting for the tell-tale pain to bloom behind his eyes. The room enshrining her computer, the bathrooms, the large closet and laundry all turned up empty. His gut twisted and sank as he turned to the kitchen. _Damn, they've managed to take her or she's dead . . . _When his senses reached the dining room and found nothing, the sinking feeling in his chest made it hard to keep looking.

_There!_

Khri's shield was barely a whisper of its natural strength, flickering off to his right. He spun and stared into the darkness where the dining area opened up into the living room. "Khri! Where are you?" he yelled, losing his focus and heading towards the shadows.

The sudden blaze of amber light gave him less than a heartbeat to move. Khri lunged at him from the shadows, wielding a broken chair leg like a club. Her swing went wide when Piccolo jumped back, missing the side of his head. His arm flew up just in time to intercept her next strike, the wood splintering against his forearm. Ignoring the pain, he made a grab for her wrist and came up short. She leaped onto the seat of the only chair left intact and glowered down at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Piccolo's booming voice and the weakening rumble of thunder shook the room. "I know you didn't want me here but there's no reason to attack me!"

Khri's bare feet shifted on the squishy chair cushion, her back to the jagged hole in the wall. The storm showed signs of easing yet heavy waves of rain blew into the room, soaking everything. Water gleamed on her neck, bare arms and midriff, and streamed down her face. Her tangled hair curling loosely down her back, her loose pajama pants and her black tank top should have made her look vulnerable. Her eyes, however, were burning slits and he could see her fangs glinting in a furious, silent snarl.

_There's something very wrong here!_ Piccolo took a precautionary step back. The only time Khri's eyes had glowed while fighting was during their little skirmish on the beach, and never when using blackfire. He'd never discussed it with her; he'd simply assumed her dimmed eyes were tied to the tight emotional control needed to tame her power. The house _looked_ like a bomb had gone off, but the only thing thrown clear had been the sofa. Khri hurled the stump of her weapon at Piccolo and looked around frantically. The patio doors had been blown out but the iron curtain rod had survived. The thick screws holding the brackets rained bits of plaster as they were ripped out of the wall. The sharp end of the rod lowered, trailing a ruined drapery like a war-torn banner. Khri held it like a spear, watching him through slits of light, then leapt from the chair and charged him.

"What do you think you're doing!" Piccolo raged. Then he knew. _That's it . . . she's _not _thinking!_

Sidestepping Khri's improvised spear wasn't a problem. Unlike their first battle she was physically healthy, strong and not suffering from emotional and mental exhaustion. He wrested the rod from her but couldn't avoid the kick she landed to his gut. Knocked across the room, he felt his back and shoulders smack into the wall. He freed himself and was on his feet again in time to roll aside from another kick. He snagged her ankle and jerked it hard, hearing her breath hiss out of her lungs as she hit the floor.

Waves of terror climbed upward through Piccolo's fingers and curled around his arm into his shoulder and chest. Uncontrolled terror, mixed with panic and desperation, found its way past his own shaken emotions and tightened his lungs. This had nothing to do with chi, he reminded himself. The ability to empathize with the emotions of another through skin contact was a Namekian trait, a legacy given to both healer and warrior Nameks alike. Nail had been taught how to use it by the elders. With no one to teach him, Kami mastered it himself through personal experience. Such emotional intrusions could be shut off while fighting, but Piccolo had been too intent on finding the cause of Khri's erratic behavior to consider this a serious fight. His grip tightened as she struggled to escape. "Khri, stop it!"

She didn't answer. She kicked out with her free leg and Piccolo felt the bones below his wrist crunch painfully under her heel. His grip held and he snared her free ankle with his other hand. "Khri! Stop this now!" Khri rolled left and right, fingers digging into the carpet as she flailed. The desperate need to escape, to wrest herself free driven by unholy terror had stripped away any sign of thoughtful defense. "What is it! What are you so afraid of?" he roared, watching her arch her back as he pulled harder on her ankles. Suddenly Khri reared up. The heavy bronze lamp, the shade missing and sporting a broken bulb, slammed into the side of his broken wrist. The impact numbed his hand and she jerked that ankle free, rolled to one side and rammed her heel into the fingers still trapping her. Piccolo growled in pain and stepped backward again, letting Khri jump to her feet. The room glowed brighter under her baleful, hate-filled gaze, her hands balling into fists.

A distant memory bubbled to the surface of Piccolo's mind. _I've seen this sort of thing before,_ he mused, _and it's important._ The hunch grew and became solid an instant before Khri hissed. She flew at him, her shoulder slamming into his chest in an attempt to knock him down. The move probably would have worked on one of her own kind, but Piccolo's size, bulk and natural strength absorbed the impact with nothing more than a grunt. It also put her exactly where he wanted her.

Piccolo threw his arms around Khri, twisting his leg behind her knee. He fell backward and hit the floor, feeling pieces of debris dig into his ribs and shoulder, taking the impact for them both. Before Khri started struggling again he rolled over and pinned her. The rain had made them both slippery, so keeping her legs and arms trapped was difficult. He's nearly forgotten how strong she was; the image of her ripping the door off a semi truck spurred him to grab both her wrists. His broken hand made it hard to keep a tight grip. One leg free and she'd be able to throw him off. _I'd better do this now!_

The technique was an old one on Namek, known by Nail only because Guru felt he should learn it. Kami had discovered it, like so many of his natural abilities, on his own prior to his ascension to godhood. Piccolo had stumbled across it during one of his rare rummaging sessions in Kami's curdled memories. He'd snorted in disgust at the judgmental old man's use of the skill but now he could see where it could be used to a fighter's advantage. His hold on Khri's wrists was slipping and tightening his fingers could break bones. _She's going to be pissed at me for this,_ he growled to himself, pressing his forehead to hers.

Twisting clouds of black and scarlet sucked him down, down into a nightmare world that would have made his sire cackle with sick delight. Corkscrews of magenta reached for him and missed, repelled by an unseen barrier. The clouds and colorful ringlets blackened and were swallowed by a void of dark silence. _I'm just an observer here,_ he reminded himselfWhen he found the hard shell protecting Khri's mind he flinched. _I have to do this! I'm _not_ my father, and I won't intentionally hurt her!_ He clenched his jaw and plunged forward.

Khri's mind was surrounded by fear and a dread so intense he found himself staring in shock and disbelief. The dread exploded into crippling horror when cold, wet bands of rubbery muscle coiled around her like a nest of tightening ropes, snaring her limbs and crushing her chest. Caustic slime burned her eyes. It filled her nose and mouth, slid down her throat, raising waves of nausea and smothering her. _This isn't just a nightmare,_ he gasped. _She lived this! It's a real memory!_

The shell protecting Khri's mind blew apart and shattered into millions of tiny, glittering pieces. A scream never reached her voice. It never had a chance. _Nooooooooo! STOPnoAIRstopstoptopcan'tBREATHE! HelphelpNONOmustgetfreeHELPSAI_ohpleaseAIRAIR! HelpSTOPSTOPpleaseNOAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Piccolo jerked his head back, gasping. He was free, free to fill his lungs with huge gulps of sweet, tropical air. The burn of acid on his tongue vanished and his stomach stopped churning. The physical sensations of the experience had been terrible by themselves, but Khri's scream as her thoughts, memories and feelings were ripped from her . . . _that_ had been unbearable. The bones of her wrists creaked as he tightened his fingers, blinking in the fierce light from her wide eyes. "Khri," he roared into her ear, "_wake up!_"

Khri's back arched and he nearly lost his grip. He pushed himself up on his elbows, keeping her pinned using only his chest and legs. "Dammit, Khri, wake up!" he shouted again, knowing he was about to lose his best advantage. The night terror prevented Khri from attacking him with blackfire but it also turned her inside out, trapping her mind inside an emotional storm over which she had no control. Piccolo felt her twist underneath him, bringing her closer to freeing one leg and throwing him off. Salty water dripped from his antennae onto her face, then was swept away by her damp hair as she tossed her head from side to side. Anger and frustration at her stubbornness, his own helplessness and the whole stupid situation forced his decision. It would take good timing and a lot of caution. _Probably a few apologies too,_ he snorted. Then Khri's right leg was free and there was no more time for second guessing.

Pain burst through his shoulder the instant he released one of her arms, her sharp elbow grinding into his collarbone. She now had leverage and started to buck him off, but he was ready. His fist caught her left cheekbone, snapping her head to the side and mashing the broken bones in his hand. The room abruptly dimmed and the straining body beneath him went limp.

"Khri!" Piccolo shifted his weight back to his forearms, holding his breath in fear. _Did I hit her too hard?_ He slipped his unbroken hand her cheek and the floor and gently turned her head. She could hear her breathing, a little too fast but it was steady. The lightning had slacked off as well as the rain and thunder, leaving the room far too dark to check her injury. He raised his head and squinted towards the hall. The switched flicked up and diffused light flooded the living room. The cold light showed him a few small cuts on Khri's face, probably from flying glass and debris, but a long gash ran the length of her swelling, left cheekbone. Her right hand lay palm up beside her head, darkening oval bruises circling her wrist like a tattooed bracelet. He was about to back away to check for other, possibly more worrisome injuries when her fingers twitched.

A slight frown wrinkled Khri's brow as she took a deep breath, swallowed and opened her eyes. Her smoky pupils, only a shade darker than her amber irises, glowed softly as she stared up at him. Nearly nose-to-now, Piccolo could make out the tiny, shimmering points in her eyes responsible for their mercurial light. "Piccolo? What are you . . ." She broke off and frowned. It was fleeting, but he didn't miss her expression of pain, her fingers probing her slashed cheek.

"Take it slow," he said quietly. He pushed himself up, ignoring the sharp pain from his own fractures, and sat beside her. Her pajama trousers, ripped in several places, were soaked and sticking to her legs. There were signs of bruising on one ankle and an assortment of minor scratches criss-crossed her arms and neck. The hem of her wet shirt had crawled up to reveal new splotches shining under the old scars scoring her ribcage. As he suspected, most of the fresh damage she'd done herself when fighting her furniture. "I don't think you're hurt badly but be careful."

Khri sat up slowly, her eyes darting around the room in confusion. She gasped at ruined furniture, the battered walls, the gaping hole and the thin curtain of water pouring from the dark sky beyond. Her gaze fell on the lamp she'd used as a club, then her eyes flew wide and her jaw dropped. When she turned back to stare at up him, he nodded at the desperate question on her face. "So far it was just this room," he added. "A couple of minutes more and you wouldn't have a kitchen."

She looked down at the rug, her shoulders trembling. "I . . . I thought I told you, made it clear . . . why didn't you stay away? I warned you . . . not to come back here tonight!"

"I don't take orders from anyone. You should know that by now." Piccolo stretched one leg, then scowled at a piece of glass stuck in his knee. He plucked it out and tossed it aside. "I certainly wasn't interrupting your sleep. Big crashes in the middle of the night usually mean trouble." He inspected his broken fingers and damaged wrist. Rejuvenation was well underway but the angles at which the bones had been fractured would slow things down. He flexed them experimentally and wished he hadn't.

At his painful noise, Khri turned around. She stared at his hand a moment. "Let . . . let me help with that," she said hoarsely, reaching for him.

"Forget it. It'll be fine."

"I know that," she said, "but I . . . I can help it along. And I . . . it would help if I had something to focus on."

Piccolo's frown relaxed, his curiosity piqued. _"She uses what we call 'close-range TK,"_ Sai's distant voice intruded out of the past. _"High Clan can repair shattered bone, broken blood vessels and other nasty injuries."_ The chance to ask him what "High Clan" meant was long gone and now wasn't the time, but it had never occurred to him that Khri might be able to heal wounds other than her own. He extended his crumpled hand.

"This might pinch a little," Khri said. Her cold hands gently cradled his injured one. He heard bone snap and a felt a sharp twinge in his index finger but kept still. He gasped when the pain instantly disappeared, then growled when she moved on to the next break. "No carpal damage . . . the metacarpals, though . . ." There was another painful crunch, followed by instant relief. At no time did she grasp or even squeeze any of his fingers; her actual touch was feather-light. She methodically examined each bone, joint and tendon, working her way down each hand and into his wrist.

Once Khri finished with the last torn ligament, Piccolo let out a long sigh. He'd forgotten how much misery a badly crushed hand could cause, even for a short period of time. The last of the small cuts faded as he slowly clenched his fist. "Thanks."

Khri didn't reply. She turned her back to him, drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. "How did you know . . . that I was still asleep?"

Piccolo's short laugh came out a snort. "When Gohan was a child training with me in the desert, he used to have nightmares. Most of the time he'd just cry or act as if he was wrestling a wild animal, but every so often he'd scream and throw himself at me. There wasn't any thought or sense to his fighting, just fear and rage. After a good punch he'd wake up and not remember anything that happened." For a long time he'd thought the kid was playing at some sort of stupid game and forced him to work even harder as punishment. He'd forgotten all about it until after his fusion with Kami and he was forced to train Goten and Trunks in the Room of Space and Time. Goten had repeated Gohan's infuriating behavior and was only saved by an intrusive memory from Kami. _Night Terrors_, the old man learned, were common among young children and some adults. Piccolo glanced outside, taking note of the relenting rain and thinning clouds. _I was just glad they never happened during a full moon._ "Whatever happened at the tournament triggered your nightmare," he said softly. "I want an explanation, and I think now's the perfect time."

She shivered. "I'm sorry I injured you, but that part of my history is none of your concern."

"Dammit, Khri, look around you!" He pointed accusingly at the smashed wall even though she couldn't see him. "Your mistake about seeing about Sai didn't cause all this! Earlier today you almost attacked me, then ran off without an explanation! You wouldn't tell Gohan what happened, you avoided me the rest of the day, and now this!" When she refused to respond, he stopped shouting and sighed. "You might as well tell me. I saw enough of your dream to know what scared you."

Khri turned with a sharp gasp, her face pale. "What!"

Piccolo rested two newly healed fingers on his forehead and favored her with a slight smile. "Warrior and healer Nameks have their differences, but we can all dreamwalk."

The shock faded from her rounded eyes and she turned away again. "I forgot about that." She rested her chin on her knees, no longer bothering to hide her shivering. "You . . . you shouldn't have intruded."

"It's not as if you gave me much of a choice."

She still wouldn't look at him, but he sensed a change in Khri's resolve. She was cold, wet and the swelling beneath her eye looked painful, yet he could feel her pull the shreds of her shield together. He had to fight the urge to retrieve a blanket, light the fire or do something to ease her discomfort. _Just wait . . . give her a few more moments . . . _

"It happened many years ago, long before my first visit to Earth." Her voice was emotionless, bleak and grey. "The _Aughenai_ had just left Home Station after a major retrofit and crew rotation. We were only a few days out when Surveillance picked up what they thought was a distant distress call. It was in a language we'd never encountered before, one our best linguistic engineers couldn't unravel. We suspected it could be a Tigradi construct, but it was decided we should answer the call." She paused for a deep breath, letting it go in a ragged exhale.

"We tracked the signal to an uncharted system. It came from the largest planet, one covered with water except for a few large islands. The signals were coming from the ocean." Her tangled curls brushed the carpet as she turned her head, her dark profile outlined in light from the hall. "The Brioux language was difficult to translate but we were certain about one thing: they were being attacked and needed help. Surveillance found no signs of any ships nearby other than the _Aughenai_ and the support fleet. Even with the translation problems we managed to arrange a meeting on their largest island. Since it was a first contact situation it was my duty as Battle Commander to lead the landing party and linguistics team."

Piccolo saw her jaw tighten and her eyes closed. "The Brioux are aquatic, but they can survive out of the water for a few hours. Their ambassador, a scientist named Pym, insisted that they were being attacked and millions had already died. The linguistics team tried everything, even filtering the Brioux speech through water sims to decipher it. Without a better translation it was impossible to understand exactly what the Brioux were facing. That . . . that was when Pym made a suggestion. He . . . he said that his Emperor had special abilities and might be able to . . . to learn our language quickly . . . from one of our landing party. I . . . I was that one."

Khri's shield snapped tighter. The breath she drew in was shaky, her voice tight. "Their Emperor was brought to the island. Their royal line has the ability to . . . to absorb information through the skin. We didn't know how the process worked until I'd stepped forward . . . and he'd . . . he grabbed me."

Images and sensations from Khri's nightmare swam behind his eyes. _That explains the monster,_ he thought, refusing to relive the feel of cold, slimy coils cutting off light, air and sound. Piccolo had never seen Khri cry out in pain, not even in the parking garage, which made her unheard wail all the worse. Dreamwalking didn't require him to share her agony, and feelings of guilt poked him for it. _Hell, just watching it was bad enough._ Suddenly he remembered his sire: the old demon would have been giddy to inflict such terror on an independent, strong-willed creature like Khri.

_I_, Piccolo coldly reminded himself, _am not my sire._

Khri's near whisper brought him back to the present. "When I could see and hear again I found myself on our lander, strapped on a med table. The captain was shouting and the medics were on the verge of panic. They said I'd been in shock and they couldn't rouse me. I found out later that the whole incident happened in seconds. My crew thought I'd been eaten. The Emperor, now that he could understand our language, instantly spat me out and backed off but not before he was shot. I was taken away for treatment but we now had an 'incident' to deal with." She looked down, her face now hidden behind her curtain of hair. "The Emperor was inconsolable. He was horrified that he'd harmed me even though he hadn't meant to. He lost a few tentacles but would survive, and his entire entourage was traumatized because of their Emperor's upset. Fortunately for the linguistics team, the Emperor's wails were in our language so they were able to translate it quickly. The order was given for the crew to stand down but the crisis wasn't over. Nobody could calm the Emperor enough to reason with him, and they were running out of options other than a complete retreat back to the _Aughenai._"

_And where was Sai during all this?_ Piccolo wondered, but that question would have to wait in line behind other, more important ones. "You didn't retreat, did you?" he ventured instead.

Khri's hair swayed back and forth. "No. I . . . I knew what I had to do." She raised her head and a trickle of pride brightened her voice. "I cleaned myself up, left the lander and walked back to the meeting. I let the Emperor see he hadn't hurt me. Everyone calmed down, mutual apologies were exchanged, and the linguistics team finished their translations with the Emperor and Pym's help. We learned that they were being attacked: we'd just been thinking on the wrong scale. They'd been invaded by the Dreg, a parasite species that was mining the Brioux themselves for trace elements. The Dreg were listed as an extinct race, and since they were microscopic we didn't even consider them as a possibility." Her smile held no humor. "We 'cured' the Brioux in less than a day and earned their friendship, their trust, and valuable trading rights. The mission was labeled a success, we returned to the _Aughenai_, and I was immediately whisked back Home so I could lose my mind in safety."

Piccolo blinked. "What?"

"The Brioux Emperor had . . . had damaged me. There was no way I could let it show or I'd lose everything. My position, my home on the _Aughenai_, my self-respect . . . the thought of losing them helped me survive the trip back Home." Khri appeared to be watching the last drops of rain splash the carpet but her gaze was too distant. "I spent several weeks at my family's compound, locked in total isolation while undergoing reconditioning. The specialists hinted that if I didn't recover quickly I would be certified as unfit for duty. I would be forced to retire." Her eyes blazed in sudden emotion. "I fought my way back. I _refused_ to let what was done to me take up any more of my time, any more of my life. And when I was pronounced fit for duty and returned to the _Aughenai_, I found that the story had become a downtime tale. The troops were retelling and stretching it over game tables and it grew with every rumor. And I used it to my advantage." The fire in her eyes was short lived, however, as she re-examined her wrecked living room. "I thought I'd conquered the nightmares. Obviously, I was wrong."

The room went silent except for the distant rustle of leaves and palm fronds, the crash of storm-stirred waves on the beach. A chunk of plaster clattered to the floor as the soaked lath gave way. _This house can be fixed,_ Piccolo mused, _but what about Khri?_

Khri started to stand. "I should find a tarp for the hole and clean this up. It's a better use of my time than reliving old haunts."

"Not so fast!" Piccolo's hand shot out and snagged her right forearm, taking care to avoid her bruised wrist.

"N . . . no! Don't touch me!" Khri snapped raggedly, trying to pull away. "Let me alone!"

Moving slowly and with just enough strength to keep her from escaping, Piccolo hauled her backward. He grasped her shoulder and pulled her around but she still refused to face him. His arms went around her, trapping her stiff body against his. "I know how you did it, how you went on," he murmured into her hair. "You shoved your feelings aside until they were weak enough to fight, and then you won. Others threatened you and you were afraid, but you took control and showed them all. You _won_, Khri." A careful flare of chi heated the surrounding air, creating a hot wind that drove the damp from their clothes and sent Khri's hair flying. _She's still shivering. Damn, now what do I do?_ His arms tightened, drawing her closer and pressing her uninjured cheek to his chest.

It could have been minutes or hours, Piccolo wasn't sure, but eventually Khri's shaking stopped. Her fingers, knotted into his gi top, eased their death grip without letting go and her breathing steadied. His ear twitched at the distant piping of a small bird clearing it's throat for a morning trill. A soft glow gave a blush to the eastern sky and the clouds let through the night's last stars. Tropical mornings always started soft, he sighed to himself. Soft . . . like the rounded shoulder cradled by his left hand. He marveled at the smoothness of her skin, fingertips brushing across the ridge of an old scar. It took a moment to realize her shirt had bunched up in the back and his other hand spanned her rib cage. There was muscle there, used and abused, hidden beneath more soft skin. The silky hair tickling his chin smelled of rain, wind, and the delicate perfume of tropical flowers. _She didn't feel like this the night of the carnival,_ he thought, looking down at the long curve of her neck and shoulder. _This feels . . . better!_ An annoying buzz in the back of his brain hummed to life and battered the inside of his brain like a trapped wasp hitting a paper screen.

The sun crested over the horizon and Khri stirred. She drew back just enough to look up at him, and he was oddly satisfied that she didn't try to push him away. Her eyes were glowing more brightly than usual, regarding him with the openness and wonder that reminded him of a very young Gohan. "Why?" she asked quietly. "Why did you . . . what made you . . . " Piccolo didn't help finish the question. A tiny frown crinkled the bridge of her nose. "I've never spoken with anyone about what happened to me on Brioux. The medics and specialists got their information from others who were there, not me. I . . . I didn't even tell Sai about it."

Piccolo's brow ridges flew up. "You mean that bastard wasn't there with you?"

The hint of a smile dimpled her uninjured cheek and her eyes flashed. "Who do you think shot the Emperor?" Her grin faded. "Sai wasn't permitted to return Home with me. The situation was so dangerous politically he was kept on the _Aughenai_ as a sign of stability and to help control any damage. Once I'd returned, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it." The outside of her thigh slid against the inside of his when she shifted to a more comfortable position.

The infernal humming was becoming a distraction, and the feel of Khri's long body pressed into his seemed to make it worse. Piccolo kept his hands very still and seized upon a statement Khri had made earlier, one he'd found disturbing. "You said you were 'locked in total isolation.' Why?"

Khri bowed her head, her thick bangs tickling his chest. "I went mad, Piccolo. For several weeks I was a danger to everyone, even myself. Once the madness started to fade the nightmares began. After I blasted holes through the medical complex they decided to sedate me and lock me down at night. Only a handful of specialists were allowed access . . . and they brought strong orderlies to make sure I didn't cause trouble." Her voice dropped to a terse whisper. "I was a prisoner in every sense of the word. It didn't take me long to figure out that my only way out of prison was to recover. So that's what I did, and I did it alone."

"Where was your father?" Suddenly curious, he added, "and the rest of your family?"

"Eldest . . . my father, was too busy." She nearly managed to hide the bitterness. "He sent a message, saying he had every confidence I'd recover and be back on duty in no time. My older brothers and sisters . . . their business takes them off world. They're also very good at avoiding potential family embarrassments." She shrugged. "At least they used to be."

Piccolo bit back a growl of disgust. Time spent training Gohan, two unwanted fusions followed by years of watching his student mature and become a father had taught him more about parent-child relationships than he really wanted to know. Touch, he'd learned, was an important part of that bond. It also explained why little Gohan had insisted on hanging on him at every possible opportunity. Khri's father, in spite of his plots and plans actions to protect her, had forgotten that a child occasionally needed comfort. _Even an adult child,_ he thought as he looked down.

The buzz became a further nuisance by reminding him that Khri was certainly _not_ a child. She was old, older than he wanted to think about, and the scars running beneath his fingers carved deeper than her skin. When it came to touch he'd thought of her as a cactus, ready with sharp points to keep him away, but not now. An unanswered question nagged him, and he feared the asking would harden the softness of the woman in his arms. It still needed to be asked.

"You haven't told me what triggered your nightmare."

A surge of fear, horror and dread poured from Khri's body like dark wine from an overturned bottle. It only lasted a heartbeat when she gasped, clamping down hard on her emotions with a ruthlessness that surprised him. _I keep forgetting just how alien she is,_ Piccolo mused as he stared down into her wide eyes. Her pupils were shrunken points of smoky amber and nearly lost in her glowing irises. "Tell me," he insisted. His arm around her tightened further, the hand on her shoulder moved to rest against gently against her injured cheek. "It has something to do with the man you mistook for Sai and what happened with the Brioux, doesn't it?" When she swallowed and pursed her lips, he played his most convincing wild card. "If it poses a threat to Earth, you've got to tell me."

Khri stared into his eyes for a long moment, then blinked. "I . . . I don't think it will come to that, but perhaps you should know."

She told him of her pursuit of Sai and the eventual unmasking of the Brioux scientist. Her voice remained cool and steady but he could sense the ache of renewed loss followed by old horror. That all changed when she related the story about her interruption of Vegeta's little meeting with the Ohlindi and the exorbitant bounty. "You should have told me about this yesterday," he growled in anger, tipping her chin so couldn't look away. "I spent the night watching you turn lights on and off when I _should_ have been on the lookout for trouble! How the hell am I supposed to protect you when you keep secrets like that?"

"I wasn't ready to tell you." Khri didn't shy away from his anger: she never did. She surprised him instead. Her cool fingers brushed the back of his hand, pressing it more firmly against her cheek. "I'd been given a lot of information in a very short period of time and I needed to think. Earth is the last place I'd expect to meet Pym or any other Brioux . . . and I reacted badly." Piccolo felt her shudder. "I needed to consider all my options and assess the real risks before I talked to you. The hunters are making their opening moves. They're putting out feelers and gathering information, so for a while they'll be discreet. Any kind of mess will cost them profit, and that's the one thing Traeger won't part with. I'm also worth far more alive than dead, so they'll be careful."

Piccolo grunted, nodding. Having the strongest fighters in the known universe playing house on one little planet would deter any big, noisy attacks, so he'd have to watch for the little, sneaky variety that crept through cracks in defenses and used snatch-and-grab tactics. He _really_ hated those. By the scowl on Khri's face, she wasn't a fan of them, either.

A large bird sounded its wake-up call outside. Piccolo glared at the bright sunshine blasting into the living room, turning the droplets resting on the bushes outside into glittering diamonds. It was another beautiful morning in the tropics, and the storms of the previous night would have been a memory except for the damage done to Khri's house.

"I really made a mess, didn't I? Her voice was soft, a bit embarrassed and not without humor.

One eye ridge lifted. "Is this gonna happen again tonight?"

"I don't think so. Somehow, I don't feel like that old nightmare is going to be a problem. There are newer ones to worry about, but they should be less violent."

Piccolo sighed. "That's good. Because you're running out of cheeks." When Khri looked up at him, sunlight spreading across her face glowed through her eyes, hiding their natural spark. "Can you fix that?" he asked, irritated by the thickness in his voice and the blasted buzzing in his brain.

"I can. I . . . I'm pretty sure my cheekbone is fractured, but it's not bad." Her slight grin pushed up her swollen cheek and nearly shut her eye. "You pulled your punch, Namek."

"Just don't tell Vegeta." _Vegeta,_ he thought darkly, _I need to have a talk with him. I need to make sure he's got his priorities straightened out._ He looked back down at Khri, saw she was concerned by his sudden shift in mood so he forced himself to relax. "I can make tea while you heal yourself."

Khri turned her head, resting her face against his chest. "I'm not thirsty."

Feeling her cheek beneath his hand suddenly warm, he held still. "What about the hole in the wall?"

"It's too early to start making calls to have it repaired," she said, voice slightly muffled by his shirt. "It's stopped raining and the furniture is ruined." She actually laughed. "Any bounty hunter who sees this mess is going to think another party snatched me! It'll take them days to figure it out!"

Piccolo felt himself chuckle. It felt good to laugh, almost as good as it did to hear the fear leave Khri's voice, feel her muscles unclench and her relaxed body press closer . . . he hissed through his teeth in disbelief at the admission. _What has gotten into me?_

Khri must have felt his arms around her stiffen. "Are you thirsty? Did you want to make tea?" she asked quietly, watching him. He could feel her holding her breath.

With a long, slow sigh, Piccolo forced himself to ignore the hum and the petty reasons he should push her away. He couldn't hide the flush of his own face, so he tightened his hold as much as he dared without hurting her. "The tea," he rumbled, "can wait."

_To be continued . . ._

_

* * *

_

AN: I apologize for the "dark and stormy night" line. Gah, so tacky. But it WAS a dark and stormy night! It's a bad literary indulgence on my part.

Huge thank-yous to all my reviewers. I'm so sorry this chapter took so long, but I update slowly so I can do things RIGHT. I hope this chapter makes sense and I haven't forgotten obvious questions...if not, let me know through my forum, "DBZ and the Exile's World."


	26. Strong Medicine, Part 1

Chapter 26 - "Strong Medicine, Part 1"

"_Meet me at the Lookout at noon." – Khri_

Piccolo scowled at the note, written in Khri's precise print on hotel stationery. He'd found it taped to the glass door of her hotel room, her temporary home while the damages to her house were being repaired.

A stiff breeze rustled his cloak as he studied at the street far below. Khri stayed in a different hotel every night: none of them had been the Satan City Continental, much to his relief. This time she'd chosen a small, plain room with a tiny balcony, but it still had a terrific view of the city skyline. He turned to take in the distant sparkle of the ocean and almost knocked over an oversized topiary. There was barely room to move let alone get comfortable, but comfort hadn't been a consideration when Khri rented the room. _Why would she care about comfort when she's never here_, he mused, resisting the urge to kick the defenseless pot.

Piccolo sighed. Deep down he knew that Khri's odd behavior over the past week wasn't an attempt to avoid him. Sure, he'd broken her jaw, but felt no traces of fear or resentment from her when she'd mended his fingers, talked about her nightmares or relaxed against his chest when he'd held her. He growled and shook his head, shoved aside that last memory, and tried again to make sense of her recent activities.

The dinky hotel room had been a precaution, one he agreed with in spite of his own discomfort. The unobstructed view from the thirty-second floor made stealth attacks a little harder and, Khri had wryly remarked, the hotel staff wouldn't fawn over a cheap guest. She kept an erratic schedule, often leaving in the afternoon and not returning until just before dawn. That made sense too, Piccolo admitted reluctantly, as did the drab suits she wore to look like a business woman. What he didn't understand, however, were her distant stares and evasive answers to his questions. _What the hell are you up to, Khri_, he wondered often over the past week, uncomfortable with her distance and his growing worry.

She'd turned down his offer to house her at the Lookout. 'I'm to live on Earth, not above it,' she'd said, adding, 'if I go into hiding then Traeger wins. That's not an outcome I will allow.' Piccolo had admired her determination then, but now he had second thoughts. Dende was keeping watch constantly, and Gohan, Goten and Trunks had marching orders to watch out for any signs of abnormal chi. Vegeta and Goku, always itching for a good fight, were probably crossing their fingers they'd be the first to sense trouble. Even Bulma had gotten in on the act by volunteering staff to monitor the radio and television channels for news. _Maybe Khri's changed her mind,_ he thought. _Maybe she's going to stay at the Lookout after all, at least until we come up with a better plan than this stupid cat and mouse game._

Piccolo read the note again. It was still more than an hour until noon and he had time to kill. The balcony was too small to let him meditate comfortably and there wasn't enough time for a split-form sparring session elsewhere. A long, slow flight would calm his thoughts, help him think. He shot up from the balcony into the sun, leaving the crumpled note behind and an overturned plant in a pile of pot shards.

Dende was waiting for him.

"It's good you're here a little early, Piccolo," he said quietly the moment Piccolo's feet touched the platform. He looked nervous and had a white-knuckled grip on his staff. Mr. Popo stood beside him, hands clenched around a large, empty glass jar, shifting from foot to foot.

_That's never a good sign,_ Piccolo thought, scowling at the intrusion of Kami's memory even though it was a useful one. "Is Khri here yet," he asked, eyeing the Temple but not attempting to feel for her. There was no sense risking a headache if he didn't need to.

"Yes. She was hoping you'd be early because she wants to talk to you." He nodded towards the temple. "She's in the Fire Hall."

Piccolo's eyes widened in surprise. The Fire Hall was a relic of ancient times, forgotten except in a handful of dusty scrolls and crumbling tablets, when supplicants were allowed to visit the Lookout for one day every ten years. Vaulted ceilings hidden in darkness, walls steeped in shadows and wide doors of hammered gold were designed to intimidate, but the creativity didn't stop there. Two lines of oil-filled braziers, each the size of a short, fat man, flanked a blood-red runner that led to a massive throne. Nothing humbled the wishes of the self-important like a long walk through a blazing tunnel of fire, the ancient kamis reasoned. The practice was abolished and the hall had been converted to a storage room many centuries before Piccolo's splintered self took office. Rather than waste time quizzing Dende, he simply nodded his thanks and climbed the steps into the temple.

In order to keep curious petitioners from doing a bit of sight-seeing, the kami responsible for constructing the Fire Hall had built it near the temple's main entrance. Piccolo turned down the hallway and noticed a faint, burning smell. Motes of dust sparkled in the sunlight from narrow windows and spider webs fluttered near the ceiling as he passed by. The doors at the end had been thrown open and the air shimmered from the heat and light that poured out. Smoke tickled the back of his throat. _So, the damn things still burn after all this time!_ He cleared his throat and stepped inside.

Twelve braziers, many still linked by thick nets of cobwebs, had been moved to form a wide circle and then set on fire. As far as he knew, the oil had never been replaced: flames smoked, sputtered and burned low. With no windows to let in light and fresh air the hall was hot and stifling. When he wiped the sweat beading on his forehead, he saw a figure at the center of the fiery circle.

Eyes closed and face calm, Khri moved through a series of slow stretches. Large splotches of grey dust smeared her uniform trousers and boots, and a lighter dusting discolored the black tank top that left her scarred arms bare. She'd piled her hair on top of her head but a long strand had worked itself loose. Piccolo watched, fascinated, as it swayed back and forth across her hip and thigh as she lunged forward, stretching her left leg.

Khri didn't seem to notice him. She bent over, palms on the floor, and executed a perfect handstand. He'd done the same move himself many times before, but there was an easy grace in the way she shifted her weight and balanced on her right hand. _It's all about control_, he reminded himself with a small grin, _and she's a master of it._ Khri smoothly returned to a double. Her legs trembled as she took a shaky breath, steadied herself, then eased into a left handstand.

Her shoulder suddenly buckled. She fell hard onto her arm and side, her elbow and hip smacking painfully against the tile. Piccolo froze, fighting the urge to pick her up, brush her off and run back to Dende for a quick healing if she needed it. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her further by bruising her pride.

Khri grimaced in pain as she slowly sat up, rubbing and rotating her left shoulder. "Damn." She wiped the blood from her elbow, then casually looked up at him. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." He offered a hand up, which she accepted. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, wiping the dust from her hands on her thighs and leaving fresh smears. "Dende's a gifted healer, but even he can't turn back time." Khri bent over and retrieved her jacket from where she'd draped it on an unlit brazier. One that burned a few feet away abruptly belched a cloud of smoke and nearly went out. It found enough oil to stagger on for a little longer: just a wispy handful of flames licked the sooty rim. "Popo warned me they wouldn't burn for very long, if at all, but the heat felt good while it lasted. It's been a long time since I've been able to stretch out that shoulder." She winced as she shrugged on her jacket.

"Khri, why did you come to the Lookout?" He hadn't meant to blurt out the question, especially in such an anxious tone. "Have you changed your mind about staying with Dende?"

She pulled her loosened hair out from her collar, not looking at him. "No."

"Then why did you want me to meet you here? Dammit, Khri, tell me what's going on! How am I supposed to watch out for you when you won't tell me where you're going, what you're doing? Keeping secrets could get you killed!"

Khri's head snapped up, eyes narrowed to glowing slits. "I haven't told you anything because there's been nothing to tell 'til now," she snapped. "All I had were guesses! I had to know first, to get more information, because I had to be absolutely certain there were no other options!"

"Options? Options for what?" He clutched her shoulders, felt her tense, but didn't relent. "What the hell is going on? "

"If you will be silent, I will tell you!"

The hard ice in her voice cut through his anger and he jerked his hands away. Taken aback, he mentally scrambled for the memory of the last time he'd seen Khri this furious. Then he had it: it was the night assassins had blasted her out her windows and shot her full of bullets. She'd dispensed personal justice using that terrible, cold tone, the same one she now used on him. _I think I'd be happier if she just screamed at me,_ he thought, taking a small step backward. "Allright. I'm listening," he said quietly.

Another brazier flared and went out, leaving the hall a little darker. Piccolo wasn't sure if the loss of light made her eyes appear brighter or if some other emotion overpowered her anger. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "This . . . this is very hard for me. I can't put this off any longer, and it's something you need to know. I . . . " she trailed off and swallowed.

Worry gnawed at Piccolo, especially when a thin line of sweat trailed down her jaw. He reached out again, but this time it was to gently touch her cheek. He didn't need to see the sudden surprise in her eyes to confirm the fear that seeped from her skin into his fingertips. "Khri, what is it?" he asked quietly, closing the distance between them. "Tell me." _Trust me!_

Khri slowly nodded, her fingers closing over his own. "I didn't tell you everything that Pym, the Brioux scientist, told me that day at the tournament. It's true, there's a threat to Earth because of hunters wanting the bounty on me, but there's something else you need to know and why I haven't . . ."

Bright as sunlight and nearly as hot, a wave of chi seared through Piccolo's senses. "Vegeta? What does he want?" he growled in annoyance. Years on Earth hadn't improved the Saiyan's rotten sense of timing or his complete disregard for the sensitivity of others. Vegeta was a blowtorch with infinite fuel always turned on high. "Stay here and keep warm while I find out what he wants. I'll be right back," he assured her, turning away.

"No, Piccolo, wait . . . "

"This should only take a minute." He left the Fire Hall and its oppressive heat, distantly aware that Khri was following him out of the temple.

Vegeta stood on the marble edge of a flowerbed stuffed with violet blossoms, arms crossed and the corners of his mouth turned up in a mocking smile. He wore the Saiyan-influenced armor Bulma had made for him: a rare thing during peaceful times unless he'd been sparring with the boys or wrecking the gravity room. He never came to the Lookout unless there was a big problem on Earth, but Piccolo couldn't sense any pre-battle tension from him today.

"I'm so glad you could join us," Vegeta said with a barely respectable nod at Dende and Mr. Popo. He stepped down from the flowerbed and walked up to Khri. "Are you ready to get this over with, Leonid, or are you having second thoughts?"

"I am, but you're early," she said, tacking her loose hair back into its knot and avoiding his gaze. "I haven't had the chance to explain the situation to Piccolo."

"Situation?" Resentment boiled through his irritation. _She's talked to Vegeta but not to me?_ "If somebody doesn't tell me what's going on here . . ."

"I've been trying to tell you," Khri said, stepping in front of him. "And Vegeta is here because I asked him to be."

Piccolo stared at her in surprise. "Why?"

Khri's expression was carefully neutral. "Vegeta used to be a soldier. He's trained and experienced in combat techniques other than using chi, like piloting and machinery repair." A hint of strain leaked into her voice. "He also has an area of expertise I don't, and I need his help."

Piccolo snorted. "Experience in what, planet demolition?"

She didn't laugh. "Field surgery."

Vegeta's smile was just as humorless. "It seems your friend here has some very determined enemies. Enemies who resort to dirty tricks rather than an honest fight." His frown at Piccolo deepened. "She hasn't told you about the Paracelsus tracker, has she?"

"Which is . . . ?"

"Illegal in most of the galaxy with good reason," Khri replied. "It's a type of engineered parasite. Once implanted in a victim's body, it immediately starts transmitting a coded homing signal. It starts growing, using tissue from the host, and as it grows the signal gets stronger. The target can then be tracked from vast distances down to the nearest meter."

"Even Freeza didn't like to use them," said Vegeta, shaking his head. "They were expensive because they're rare, and after a while they kill the host. He liked to kill his targets personally. Handing it off to an implanted worm wasn't his style."

"It's almost impossible for anyone to know they've been implanted until it's too late." Khri rubbed her weak shoulder. "Since they have the DNA of their host, they don't show up on standard medical scans."

The gentle breeze that normally flowed over the Lookout stilled, and the weights on Piccolo's head and shoulders felt strangely heavy. "Khri, you . . . you have one of these trackers."

Khri nodded once. "The only time one could've been implanted was roughly two Earth years ago. I had minor surgery to improve the function of my shoulder. Someone on the medical team must have been paid very well to sneak this in. It couldn't have been before then or I'd be dead by now."

"Can you get rid of it?" he asked urgently. "And what about Bulma and Trunks? Isn't there something they can do at Capsule?"

"It's not that they can't, it's that I won't allow it," she said quietly. "I haven't even asked."

To Piccolo's surprise, Vegeta nodded in agreement. "The Leonid is right. After she approached me with her little problem, I did some research. Capsule's medical facilities aren't as advanced as Freeza's were, but they could remove the tracker." He scowled but there was no trace of either anger or arrogance. "The problem is that Bulma and Trunks aren't Capsule's sole employees. There have been several instances of scientific espionage lately, especially when it comes to technology that can be used for less than peaceful purposes. That tracker, if sold to the right buyer, would make someone a lot of money and cause a lot of problems on this mud ball."

"I want it out," Khri growled softly, reaching inside her jacket. She withdrew a small black box and passed it to Vegeta. "I want it out and destroyed. Every bit of it. " Her eyes blazed so brightly they lit up her face in spite of the sun. "And it may take some time, but I will find the son of a bitch who did this to me."

Vegeta opened the box and smiled. "You certainly came prepared, Leonid," he said as he picked up the largest of several knives and held it up for inspection. Sunlight ran along the sharp edge as he tilted it back and forth. "I should be able to remove it with these."

"You?" Piccolo gasped. "Here? And now?" He glared at Dende. "I can guess what your part in this is!"

The younger Namek jerked his chin higher and didn't look away. "I don't like it either, Piccolo, but there isn't any other choice. As soon as Vegeta's done . . . um . . . removing the tracker, then I'll step in. And you know I can work fast."

_Instant healing. She won't suffer from blood loss or more scarring, once this is finished._ "Good to know you've got this all figured out," he said scornfully. "So what do you need me for?"

Fists clenched at her sides, Khri moved to stand close enough so she had to tilt her head back to look at up him. "Piccolo, I need you to . . . to hold me down. You're the only one I trust to do that," she rushed, not giving him time to object. "There's no way I'll be able to keep still through this!"

"I can't believe you're going to let Vegeta play surgeon." He folded his arms, mostly so he wouldn't grab her and try to shake some sense into her. It helped keep his hands from shaking, too. "And I can't believe you want me to hold you down while he cuts into you!"

"I like it even less than you do! But the last thing I want is for Vegeta to slip because I'm struggling, wait for Dende to heal me, and then have to start all over again!"

Piccolo was struck with a new thought. "Hold on . . . you're planning to go through this _awake_? Are you crazy?"

"I offered her a punch to the jaw, Namek, but she refused to take me up on it," Vegeta said with a shrug.

Khri regarded him with a mixture of determination and disbelief. "Piccolo, would _you_ choose to be unconscious, knowing Vegeta was coming at you with a set of surgical knives?"

He stared a her for a long moment, then finally gave her a bitter smile. "You've got a point." His smile faded but he couldn't look away. _She's afraid, and there's nothing I can do about it. What I can do is help her, do what she wants, make sure nothing even worse happens, let her know she's not alone . . . _"I hate this. But I'll do it."

Her face softened in gratitude, then she was all business again. "If you gentlemen are ready, I'd like to get this over with," she said as she stripped her jacket off, tossed it aside and sank to her knees. "Remember, no matter how tempted you may be, don't use chi! And Vegeta, please make sure you get all of it so it doesn't grow back!"

Piccolo's shoulder weights thudded on the tile. "What do you mean, 'grow back'?"

"It's an engineered parasite, remember?" Vegeta knelt next to Khri as she pulled the left shoulder strap of her tank top down her arm. "They're supposed to be hard to remove. If you leave any behind it will grow again, so I'll have to cut out surrounding bone and tissue, just in case. This," he added as he slipped a hand inside his chest plate, "has been re-calibrated so I can see what should go and what should stay."

"Your old scouter?"

Vegeta chuckled as he slid the screen into place. "I had to hunt through the junk in Trunks' workroom and fix some of Bulma's tampering, but it still works." He tapped a few buttons and moved slightly so Dende could get into a closer position.

"Today, if you please," Khri muttered, bending over so her forehead pressed against the floor.

Piccolo knelt in front of her, locking his hands around her wrists. "We'll start with this," he whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I won't let you move." Her fingers, gripping his forearms tightly, were cold and trembling. "Hold tight." He peered up at Vegeta, glared a silent warning, then nodded.

Khri tensed at the knife's first bite. She hissed and clenched him tighter, and he ignored the realization he'd have more than a few broken bones before Vegeta was through. Blood trickled down her neck and shoulder, pooled on the floor and soaked into the legs of Piccolo's gi. Instinct warned him before she tried to wrench herself free and he tightened his grip, feeling her own wrist bones crack. "Dammit, Vegeta, hurry!"

"You want to finish this, Namek? It's wrapped around her collarbone and it takes time to saw through it!"

When a small wad of tissue splashed next to his elbow, Piccolo braced her good shoulder with his forehead. "Scream, dammit! Nobody will care, so scream if you want to!"

Her body lurched as Vegeta gave a sharp tug and tossed something thin and gleaming white aside. "Her? Scream? Oof." There was another small splat. "If she's who she claims to be, you won't hear a sound. Isn't that right, Leonid?"

There was no sign Khri was listening. She was, however, going into deep shock. _Hold on,_ he pushed into her mind. _Fight! You've done this before, you can do it again!_

"That's it!"

Metal twanged and Dende jerked back, narrowly avoiding a pale, misshapen lump that flew across the Lookout's deck and smacked into the base of a flowerbed. "Wh . . . is _that it_?" Dende gasped, his face yellowing with nausea.

Serrated knife in hand, Vegeta jumped aside. "Yes, now get in here and clean up this mess!"

Piccolo felt a shadow fall across the back of his head, the edge of a sleeve tickle his ear. He held his breath as the familiar, healing warmth worked its way through Khri's body and flowed from her hands into his. Fractures closed, tendons knit themselves back together, bruises faded and new skin closed over it all. He waited for the warmth to completely fade and Dende to back away before he raised his head.

"Khri?"

Moving like an old woman, she pushed herself up and sat back on her knees, as if waking from a long dream. Her shirt was soaked through and there were few areas that weren't coated in blood. Having come loose again and fallen in the puddle, Khri's hair dripped and stuck to her arms. "I'm . . . I'm all right," she said softly, but her voice wavered. Her right hand flew to the opposite shoulder, fingers probing old scars yet not finding new ones, and she shook her head in amazement. Piccolo got to his feet first and watched to make sure she did the same without slipping.

She was unsteady, but Khri managed to stand on her own. "Vegeta, did you get all of it?"

A ropy mass dangled from Vegeta's outstretched arm. "I assume you mean this," he said, watching in disgust as the thing twisted and writhed between his pinched fingers. A slanted red eye stared at him in visible hate, furious at having been extracted from its dark, warm home. "It's all here, plus a little extra." Mr. Popo nudged him, passed him the glass jar, then headed for the temple to search for a mop and bucket. The tracker plopped to the bottom, squirming in protest of the cool surface.

Khri picked up her jacket, looked down at her clothing in distaste, and folded it over her right arm instead. "It will live for a few hours outside a host so before you destroy it, please make a false trail for the bounty hunters to follow. They'll figure out what I've done, but it will help send the message I'm not to be taken lightly."

"If they could see you now, they wouldn't dare," Piccolo muttered.

She gave up looking for a clean spot on her pants where she could wipe off her hands. "I want to clean myself up, but first things first . . . please lower your chi." Blackfire curled around her outstretched arm and coalesced in her palm. Its core brightened from a deep violet to a white lavender before she released it. The pool on the floor vaporized, as did the clumps of removed tissue and bone, leaving behind a slight haze of smoke and a sooty spot on the tile. She turned back and bowed respectfully to Dende, then to Vegeta. "Thank you both for your assistance. Destroying the tracker won't stop them, but it should make their search desperate and clumsy. If we're lucky, it may be easier to find them first now."

"I still wish you'd stay here." Dende didn't look happier but his skin was the right color. "I'm not convinced it's safer for you on Earth."

"She'd be a sitting target up here," Vegeta said. "If she didn't die of boredom first."

Khri ignored Vegeta's opinion of the Lookout. "It's not about safety, Dende. If I stayed here I'd be admitting I was afraid. Remaining on Earth makes them worry, second guess their plans and forces them to wonder what sort of trap I've laid for them. Now that the repairs on my house are finished, I'd like to go home." She suddenly looked away. "It was also, you remember, my father's last order that I live down there."

Dende sighed, then nodded in understanding. "I can, however, offer you a place to clean up."

She smiled. "That, I'd be most happy to accept." She shot Piccolo a meaningful look before turning away.

Piccolo gazed after Khri, watching her retreat into the temple. _There will be time to talk later._ Now, however, he was aware that drying blood on his gi was acting like glue and the fabric was sticking to his skin. Blood never bothered him, especially his own, but he'd seen far too much of hers lately and felt responsible for a lot of it. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Vegeta watching him. "Weren't you going to deal with that?" He inclined his head towards the seething tracker in its prison.

"I will when I choose to. I'm no errand boy, but it's been a long time since I was treated with the respect due a Saiyan royal. Granting such a wish . . . amuses me." Vegeta cocked his head. "Since I'm feeling so magnanimous, I'll give you a bit of advice."

"Humpfh. No thanks."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss it, Namek! You might be grateful for it, and soon."

Curiosity nibbled at him. "Make it quick."

Vegeta smiled but his eyes were serious. "You need to take care around that Leonid woman, Piccolo. She's dangerous."

He snorted. "You think I don't know that? She's been dangerous to be around since the moment I met her!" _It doesn't matter that we met all those years ago . . .that hasn't changed!_

"This," Vegeta shook the jar, "is only a small part of that danger. She's a _female_, Namek, and all females have weapons they hide and use against you. Some can be more . . . pleasant . . . than others, but they're weapons all the same." He tossed the jar into the air a few times, agitating the tracker even more. "It might not make sense to you right now but remember it later. Don't let her get too close or you'll regret it." He turned and headed for the edge of the Lookout.

"Not much risk in that," he shot back. "You're the one she told about the tracker, not me."

Vegeta paused long enough to smirk at him over his shoulder. "Sounds to me like she's used one on you already." Before Piccolo could demand an explanation, he was gone.

Alone on the platform, he looked across the Earth far below. _Female weapons._ It was an idea he'd never heard of before, and to hear of it from Vegeta made it all the more puzzling. What sort of weapon could Bulma possibly wield against Vegeta, one that he'd take seriously? Piccolo whirled around to stare at the temple with a growing sense of alarm. _If Khri's got one, whatever it is, I think I'm going to find out, and soon!_

_To Be Continued . . ._

_AN: Thank you so much to all my readers and reviewers. I could never have finished this without your sporks!_

_Tomorrow (6/28/07) is the third anniversary of "EE's" posting. This chapter still feels rough to me, but I wanted this posted ASAP since everyone has waited long enough. THANK YOU again for hanging with me!_

_ There is an illustration for this chapter on my devianart account for those interested. Khri looks a lot better in that picture than she does in this chapter!_

_Coming Soon: "Strong Medicine, Part 2"  
_


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